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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25882294">As The World Around Us Turns</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Purpledragon6/pseuds/Purpledragon6'>Purpledragon6</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Infinity Train (Cartoon)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Daycare, Alternate Universe - Foster Family, Child Abandonment, F/M, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Foster Care, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Not Canon Compliant, Team as Family</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 10:01:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>34,325</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25882294</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Purpledragon6/pseuds/Purpledragon6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>An AU where Grace and Simon are daycare workers, and Hazel is a *very* special little girl who changes their lives.</p><p>Written Pre-Episode 5.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Grace/Simon (Infinity Train)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>95</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>219</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Every Morning</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Simon's POV.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>"When you get up in the morning, just remind yourself 'I love my job.' And your day will go by quickly." </em>
</p><p>Now, Simon didn't know whose mantra that was originally, but whoever it was was an idiot. Because he had been muttering that to himself for half an hour and only five minutes had passed in that time! Five minutes of being used as a human tissue by one kid while two other kids took turns poking him in the eye as another child crawled on his back. All the while, his co-teacher Grace was taking the longest "potty break" in Infinity Care's history!</p><p>"I love my job-" Now someone was crying. </p><p>"Simon! I broke my straw!" And now there was apple juice on his shirt. </p><p>"I love my jo-" Whatever that was on his back- he really hoped was just more apple juice... "I love my job-"</p><p>Okay. So maybe he only tolerated his job, but work was work and money was money. So he couldn't really complain- at least, not until he got off of work, that was. Then he could go out with Grace, drink himself silly, and return home to his crappy apartment and then wake up hungover and do it all again. </p><p>"Looks like someone could use a hand." Speaking of Grace- there she was now. Or at least there were her spotless shoes.</p><p>Just inches away from his face, which was now slowly being crushed by some kid's tummy... Close enough that she could just reach down and pick up the little one without much effort- any second now!</p><p>"You're not helping much." Simon groaned, </p><p>"How do we ask for help in the Apex Room?" That sugary sweet voice always forced a smirk to worm its way onto his face... And then a frown would immediately follow as a blush took its place.</p><p>"Please and thank you, Ms. Grace." </p><p>The magic words were all he needed to say for his wish to be granted. One by one, heavy kiddos were picked up and set down elsewhere and Simon could finally stand again. Finally breathe in that musty, crayon filled air- and then stop breathing immediately after because he just *knew* someone had had an "accident" right next to him.</p><p>"You got this one." Grace hummed, collapsing into the only comfy chair in the room like she *didn't* just get back. </p><p>"Don't I always?" He did. He was so familiar with the changing table, you would have thought he was dating it! </p><p>"You do, but how else am I supposed to keep my work shirt so clean?" Grace cooed, taking a moment to kick a discarded toy closer to one of the kids. "And look, I'm busy playing with the children!" </p><p>"Yeah yeah..." A huff, and he lugged the soiled child (Todd. Of course) onto the table. "What took you so long anyway? Doesn't it normally only take you 15 minutes to read your magazine?" </p><p>"Why, Simon! I would never go over the standard 5 minute potty time." The woman replied sarcastically with a wide stretch of her arms. </p><p>She then dropped them at her sides and her face took on a much more serious look. The kind of look that was only used in one of two situations. One being "Look busy, corporates coming in today!" And the other being-</p><p>"New kid?" </p><p>Grace nodded. "I just talked to the big boss on my way back. Ms. Amelia says this one is a *special* case." </p><p>"'Special'?" His voice dropped a few octaves.  "Like- Special-Special or "We have to follow a procedure" special?" </p><p>"I didn't ask. But she is coming in to-day after hours for a tour and *we're* getting a briefing beforehand- so you know what that means." </p><p>"Overtime?" Simon both loved and hated the sound of that.</p><p>On one hand, more work. On the other- $2 extra plus their usual pay for every hour they went over. And when he and Grace did tours- they *really* went over. It be just the edge he needed this month to pay both his rent AND go grocery shopping. </p><p>"Uh huh. Oh, and Simon? Todd just peed on your shirt."</p><p>... And it also meant a little extra money to buy a spare work shirt...</p><hr/><p>"Bye Mr. Simon! Bye-bye Ms. Grace!" </p><p>It had been a long day, but finally the last of their bunch had left for the day. Now all that was left was to tidy up the room, do the tour, and they were sprung! If all went accordingly, they'd be out by 8 and still have time to catch a movie or something of the like-</p><p>"What do you think our new kid is gonna be like?" </p><p>Simon's head jerked up from the juice stain he had been cleaning. He found Grace, leaning over her broom with the warmest smile on her face. It was about as warm as their room currently was, with only a soft breeze from the opened window to cool them. It was nearly fall time now, but the remaining evening heat was still enough to make the man's skin itch. Grace, as always, seemed unbothered. Her mind focused on the new little one. </p><p>"A snot nosed brat who will ask too many questions would be my guess." Though, weren't most 2-3 year olds like that? Didn't Grace know that?</p><p>"Simon, I'm serious. You know Amelia wouldn't call in a briefing for just any kid." The woman hummed, twirling about on her broom. "Come on, Simon. Try to act excited. I know you love new kids as much as I do."</p><p>This- was true. He did love meeting the new kids, and helping them to become acclimated to their new surroundings- until they became too comfortable and started acting like they owned the damn place... Still, that never seemed to take away the excitement of it all.</p><p>"Simon. Grace." ... Or the anxiety of it all. </p><p>"Ms. Amelia." Simon greeted, wheeling to face their boss and- small child with her.</p><p>The small, dirty child hiding behind her. This one had the biggest eyes Simon had ever seen- and the fluffiest mess of hair surrounding it. The child was also dressed in an oversized sweater that looked much too warm for the weather. She definitely didn't look like any of the tour kids he or Grace had seen before. </p><p>"I know I said I'd brief you two, but something came up and she was dropped off earlier than expected." The woman explained, her voice soft and uncertain. "I will be giving you both a packet to read afterwards." </p><p>Grace stepped forward before Simon had a chance to fathom a response. "Sure thing, boss-lady!" </p><p>Ms. Amelia grunted at the name before stepping out of the way of the child and gently nudging her towards the pair. Even at three years old- this girl looked ready to cause a ruckus if need be. Simon decided then and there to leave introductions up to Grace. She always handled those better than him. </p><p>Grace seemed to get the hint. He watched the woman take a graceful step forward and then a knee, getting on level with the frazzled child before speaking.</p><p>"Hello! My name is Ms. Grace, and this is my friend Mr. Simon." Her smile widened. "And what's your name?"</p><p>The little girl blushed and bowed her head deep into her chest. She seemed to be contemplating her response. Then, with the sweetest smile, she looked up and said in the boldest voice Simon had ever heard come out of a child-</p><p>"Hazel!" </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Every Evening</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A night on the town and a forgotten task leads to complications the next day.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>"Every morning, every evening- Ain't we got fun!"</em>
</p><p>Simon grimaced and reached a hand out to switch off the car's radio. After spending the day jamming out to annoying kid's songs, he definitely did NOT want to be listening to- whatever the hell this was. </p><p>"Hands off my mom's radio, Socks-with-Sandals." Grace's warning tone stopped him. </p><p>"I don't see why we had to take her car... Didn't you just pay off your own?"</p><p>Grace scoffed. "Yeah, but we're going to 'Jamie's'! I don't want some drunk jerk scratching up my new ride." </p><p>Jamie's; A 21-and-up dive bar that had been soothing their woes since they were just two 17 year olds with fake IDs. Now, they were two tired 22 year olds who still didn't know how to handle things on their own. Hauled up in a shitty dodge caravan, on their way to get hammered before the rooster cawed in the morning. </p><p>Grace's laugh drew Simon back. "Hey, we could have taken your mom's ca-" </p><p>Simon scowled, sinking lower into the squishy seat. Mrs. Cosay- his former foster mom- would never trust him to take her car out (again) and Grace knew it. Not since he crashed it into that pole back when they were 19. Sure, they could have taken it without asking, but his foster-brothers were such tattletales-</p><p>"Fat chance..." He grumbled. "And stop calling her my mom. I aged out of her house years ago." </p><p>"Si, the Cossays love you. Whitney even said you could've stayed with-" If this weren't Mrs. Monroe's car, he would've broken the babylock on the door in order to tuck and roll out of this conversation... But he didn't. </p><p>"I'm a grown ass adult, Grace." </p><p>The woman scowled suddenly, eyes still fixed firmly on the road. It was yet another look of her's that Simon was familiar with. Knowing a tense conversation was about to happen, he reached over and switched off the radio. The immediate silence would have been uncomfortable, but luckily, it didn't last too long before Grace spoke. </p><p>"So am I, and I still live with my mom and dad." She sighed, "Si, what's eating at you today? We get to go to Jamie's, and we just got paid a shit ton of overtime." </p><p>He felt his mouth open, as if to speak, but nothing came out. He checked his brain to see what the hold up was- and found that he really didn't have a response. Other than blame it on the pee and apple juice on his shirt, he wasn't sure. Nothing out of the ordinary had happened.</p><p>They had met with Hazel, and got to know somethings about her- like how her beloved stuffed monkey was named "Tuba" and her favorite colour was "everything"... She had been so talkative during the tour, and was extremely polite for such a small girl. Heck, the tot even asked for Grace for a napkin to "clean herself up" with! It had almost brought a smile to Simon's face- almost...</p><p>But something about it felt off. Her parents didn't even come in with her, and even Amelia seemed on edge as they led Hazel around the classroom. And those big brown eyes- they looked so sad at times... If Grace hadn't been there to dispell any tension, Simon was almost positive that the awkward atmosphere would have killed him stone dead! </p><p>And then there was those packets- the same packets that were now sitting disgarded and unopened in the backseat... Something inside of him was telling him to grab one and open it-</p><p>"Hello! Earth to Simon? Are you with me?" For the second time that night, Grace proved to be the man's connection back to reality."</p><p>"Yeah- I'm fine." Not a full lie.</p><p>"I asked you a question and you just blanked out. You sure you're alright?"  </p><p>"Yeah- Hey, Grace? Shouldn't we read those packets?" Simon asked, shrugged a shoulder in their direction.</p><p>What he hadn't expected was for Grace to take a sudden, sharp turn and slam on the breaks so hard that it sent the blonde flying into the windshield. A telltale sign that they had arrived at their destination. </p><p>"No. You know those packets are just kid stuff, like allergies and birthdays. We can read them tomorrow." Grace replied, </p><p>She was probably right. "But-" </p><p>"No buts. We've got cheap shots and karaoke to get to," A warm smile spread across her face and for a moment- Simon felt the fog from earlier lift from him. "Now hurry up! Last one in is the designated driver!"</p><p>And then it was back... So without much more thought, the blonde tore open the car door and raced after his dark haired friend- who totally didn't get there before him. No way. Sticking your tongue out to reach the door first DIDN'T count! </p><p>"You're just jealous that I get to drink more tonight." Grace teased, sliding the car keys into his back pocket. </p><p>She then slid passed him, signaled the bar tender on duty for their usual and grabbed their usual seats. The two "good" chairs up at the bar, next to the karaoke machine. They weren't new, by any means, but they did have their names keyed into the back so other patrons knew they were theirs. </p><p>Before he could sit down, however, Grace blocked his path with her leg. The flexible leg of a jerk dancer...</p><p>"Why don't you go and pick out a song. Serenade me before the crowd shows up."</p><p>She smirked, and he knew better than to argue. They did this every time, after all. So with a thoughtful hum, he made his way over to the beat up machine to pick out a song to set the mood for the night.</p><p>
  <em> <strong>"Ain't We Got Fun."</strong> </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Ain't We Have Fun</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Life has a tendency of sneaking up on you- thats a saying, right?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em>Thursday nights were the best. Just warm bar-food, cheap alcohol, and singing the most boring </em> <em>covers to songs no one had ever heard of before- Their mini-vacation away from work and responsibilities. Just Simon and Grace against the world as two tired adults. it was paradise. Paradise paid for in whatever pocket change the pair had scrounged up before entering. Some would find it a waste of time and money, but not them. They made it worth their while together. It always reminded Simon of an old saying he had heard once-</em></p><p>
  <em>'You don't find paradise, you make it!'  He couldn't for the life of him remember where he had heard that one from- Or any of his other sayings and mantras for that matter... He always heard them in the same voice, however. A familiar, distant, motherly voice-</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Si, finish your drink! Our turn for karaoke is coming up." </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Simon smiled thankfully and tossed back his drink- The familiar burn of an unknown mix was enough to dispel any addition musings. Just as it always did whenever he was thinking to hard- or felt that he was about to. It warmed him enough to get through the night and most of the next day without too much trouble. And with Grace there, he felt comfortable enough to have more than necessary. 'One more' always turned into six, and then he'd lose count and wake up at home, but it made him happy- At least, he felt it did. There were a lot of things that troubled him. The phantom that lived in his brain, his job, his foster-family- The way Grace didn't seem to care or even notice whenever he'd stare into his drink for too long- </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"You okay, bud? You've got that mile long stare again." As always, Grace was there to pull him from his thoughts before he'd get too lost in them. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"I'm fine- I think my contacts are dry. Be right back." </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Not a total lie. His eyes were currently burning as bad as his throat, and it only seemed to worsen as he wove through the sea of tables and cigarette smoke. Like the air at the Daycare, it made his skin burn and itch. Something that would have bothered him had they just arrived, but that was nearly 4 hours ago. Nothing could bother him now. Not the way he clipped his side on the pool table- or that suspicious puddle he stepped in when he finally got to the bathroom... Not even the bloodshot eyes that met him when he looked into the bathroom mirror- Nothing.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>'Don't let it bother you, Simon. This is happy time.' He made sure this voice in his head was his this time.</em>
</p><hr/><p>
  <em>The rest of the night was a blur- The following morning was a blur too. Hell, everything was a God damn blur after Simon got wasted enough to somehow misplace *BOTH* of his contact lenses in the bar bathroom! This lead to a string of grumbled curses from the blonde, cursing his luck and feeling around for them until he finally admitted defeat. Amazing he could still do that. Had he not thought to mention the mishap to Grace, he most likely would have stayed at the bar until he couldn't even remember his own name. But no. Bad karaoke and nickle shots came to an end as soon as she heard. Its the only reason why he could still vaguely remember Grace dragging him out to the car now.</em>
</p><p><em>"You are the biggest idiot when you're drunk. You know that right!?" Grace ranted as she dragged him by the strings of his hoodie. The neck hole was uncomfortably tight around his neck, but he wasn't about to complain. Grace was mean when she was buzzed. She'd bite his head off if he spoke up now...</em> <em>And yet he spoke up anyhow, like the idiot monkey he was.</em></p><p>
  <em>"No' drunk yet- just buzzed...:" </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Then explain how you lost your contacts!" A hiccup slid out between her words. If she weren't the one driving him, Simon would have smiled. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Instead he mustered up the more innocent face he could. "I thought they were dry- and I took them out and dropped them." </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"... Idiot."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The temperature had dropped significantly while they were inside. It bit at them mercilessly and they both were shivering like crazy. Grace fumbled with the keys for a moment, but Simon trusted it was from the cold and nothing more. She always made sure they got home safe, even if it meant taking a nap in the back of the car to sober up before driving. And she always let him know before hand if she was good to drive or not. The caution made Simon feel safe and further proved to him that Grace was a God send-</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Am I dropping you at your parent's house?"  And a devil send. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"No! Its late..."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"You're between paychecks and that was your last pair of contacts... Don't you need your glasses or something?"  Note to Simon- stop telling Grace every micro-detail of your personal life. She was right, of course, but he wasn't going to admit that. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He also wasn't going to admit that going to *that* house required hours of mental preparation. There was a written procedure he needed to follow in order to get in and get out of there- and there was an unspoken rule that he would never enter that house unless he was sober. Many a incident had taken place there while he was inebriated- </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"I'll go and pick them up in the morning- Just- don't take me over there." </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Silence. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>With a gentle huff, Grace started the van. The warm air that rushed out of the vents soothed them both and the glowing green numbers of the van's clock reminded them just how late it was. It was time to turn in for the night. So with a sleepy smile, the blonde shut his eyes and put his complete trust into Grace as she backed out of the parking lot and drove off. </em>
</p><hr/><p>
  <em> <strong>The Next Day:</strong> </em>
</p><p>It never mattered how much more Simon had to drink than Grace. It didn't matter how dizzy he had been when he woke up the next day. Or how confused he felt to find his glasses in his hoodie pocket when he knew they hadn't been there the night before. One cup of coffee from the break room at work, and he was suddenly stone cold sober- Grace on the other hand?</p><p>"You okay, Grace?" Simon snickered. His co-worker was currently tossed over the giant stuffed bear they kept in their room. The lights were dimmed, gentle piano music was on their radio, and they were both so thankful that they had a small group today. </p><p>"Is it nap-time yet?" Grace muttered, "If not, then I'm fine..."</p><p>"Yeah. Its nap-time." Simon tossed himself into a nearby beanbag chair and tugged at Grace's foot. "And we're on break, remember? Our class is in Ms. Mall's room today." </p><p>Friday afternoon's were just as glorious as Thursday nights. This was the day when their kids were someone else's problem during nap-time so they could 'wipe down' their classroom. Ms. Amelia would bring them a bucket of cleaner and some rags, and so long as they weren't on their phones and *something* was getting cleaned, she didn't bother them. Even that only took minutes if they worked together. Yeah, there was nothing better than an entire two hours of getting paid to do nothing. The only thing that ever made it better was when their hour break lined up with the end of nap-time, earning them an extra hour of quiet. </p><p>"Simon, your voice is grating right now." The woman huffed, rolling over slightly, "Which is normal, but still." </p><p>"Hey, don't be mad at me. We've got two more hours after this and we're home free-" He should have seen that pillow toss coming- and the key toss- but he didn't.</p><p>"Hush up and go sign us out for lunch... I don't care what we get this time." </p><p>"Sure thing." Simon smirked and pulled himself up. Knowing his co-worker, this usually meant 'Wanda's' again. With another tug at her foot, he was off. </p><p>Slipping out into the hallway during nap-time always made him feel like a character in the adventure novel he had been writing. The classrooms were all dark and quiet, the hall was empty- even Ms. Amelia was out to lunch instead of roaming about, leaving the blonde free to sneak about the corridor like a man on a mission. A noble quest to get to the clock-in station without waking anybody up or bumping into anyone who might request something for lunch. A journey to the best fast food joint on this side of the hemisphere! </p><p>"You have glasses on!" Er- so much for sneaking about. </p><p>In fact, he was pretty sure his sudden shout had given away his location to- well, everyone. Wheeling around, Simon searched the hall for the source of the voice and found- The new child? She was sitting outside of Ms. Mall's room, legs drawn up to her chest, clutching her stuffed monkey to her chest. It took a second of searching his brain for Simon to remember her name. </p><p>"Hazel? What are you doing out here?" He asked, putting on his best 'I tolerate children' voice. "Its nap-time-" </p><p>"Too noisy..." Hazel sighed, resting her head onto her stuffed animal. She looked so tired, just like Grace. As further evident in the way she pushed her sleeve into her mouth to stifle a yawn. "You?" </p><p>"Oh- um... I'm going to lunch, actually." Simon replied, awkwardly shifting his weight from one foot to the other. </p><p>"Can I come?" </p><p>The man felt his heart clench and an awkward tension begin to form- Not that Hazel seemed to realize it. She just kept looking at him so innocently- hopeful even. He didn't want to be the one to tell her no. It would risk making her cry and then he would either have to calm her down or have to explain to the annoyed teachers that is wasn't *his* fault. That would ruin his perfect Friday. Still- he couldn't just leave now. She was still waiting for his answer. </p><p>"No- You need to be asleep." Nailed it, Simon. </p><p>"I'm not tired." Failed it, Simon. "I'm hungry."</p><p>Well, he was locked in now. That much was certain. "Did you not eat your own lunch?" </p><p>"No... Tuba ate my lunch!" The sunshine girl lifted her monkey up for him to see, and happy shook it back and forth, "She was soooooo hungry!" </p><p>"So now you're sooooo hungry?" A ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of Simon's mouth. If not for the fact that he was now wasting precious lunch time on this conversation, he would have found it adorable.</p><p>"Mhm! So can I come?" There was that hopeful look again. The same hopeful look that Simon would have to squash here in a minute. </p><p>"No- I'm sorry, Hazel. But only adults can come with." </p><p>A pause, and for a moment he thought he was home free- but no. "Oh... Am I an adult, or a kid?"</p><p>"You're a kid."</p><p>"Why can only adults go?" <br/><br/></p><p>"Because- you need a car to go through the drive-thru, and you need money to pay for it." He was getting tired of this, but he was pretty sure telling a child to sod off was the *first* thing they taught them NOT to do in Childcare 101.</p><p>So through gritted teeth, he thumbed the edge of Grace's keys and kept half an eye on the wall clock that hung above the exit- the exit that was sooo close. If he ran fast enough, he would escape before Hazel had a chance to ask him another stupid question-</p><p>"Why do you have glasses today but none yesterday?" No such luck. The time he took to blink proved to be too long...</p><p>"Um- Its a long, very boring story." He lied, slowly turning his body towards the exit.</p><p>"I like stories!" Hazel giggled. </p><p>"You wouldn't like this one-" </p><p>"If you tell me, maybe I'll fall asleep." This wasn't going to stop anytime soon. </p><p>"Fine... I lost my eyes yesterday." A half a lie. </p><p>"Oooh! How did you lose them?" The way her innocent eyes sparkled in interest almost made Simon smile for real. That sparkle almost made him *want* to spin her a tale. One of an epic, magical quest and an evil wizard that stole his sight- something funny. A story he would be proud to say he wrote, like the ones he used to write for his foster-brothers before he began work on his novel. Almost- but not quite. His life wasn't a fairy tale, and Hazel wasn't one of his brothers. She was Ms. Mall's responsibility for the next hour and his only task was to hurry along and get lunch. There was no time for story telling.</p><p>"I was drinking," He muttered without realizing it- He had hoped Hazel hadn't heard it, but the way her eyes went wide told him she had, "Er- I was drinking a glass of juice and- accidentally lost my eyes?" </p><p>"Was it apple juice? Sometimes apple juice gives me a tummy ache if I have too much." </p><p>With a sigh of relief, Simon shook his head. "No. It was- special juice."</p><p>"Oh- Can I have some?" The little girl squeaked, "I like juice, and I always share mine with Tuba."</p><p>"No, you wouldn't like it. Its- really bad tasting special medicine juice for grown ups." His shoulders were sore from digging that hole, but whatever. </p><p>Hazel's sweet face dropped suddenly. She suddenly looked very concerned. "Medicine- Are you sick, Simon?"</p><p>"Thats Mr. Simon- and no..." </p><p>"So why do you need special juice?" The girl's face was still concerned, but suspicious now. </p><p>The man felt his blood run cold and his face felt hot. His jaw was set so firm that he was sure it would break if he ground his teeth any harder. It felt as though more eyes than just Hazel's were on him. He wanted to run now more than ever. Forget lunch, forget work, forget Grace. He just needed to get out of this conversation. Simon was almost certain he had said too much, and was positive that he'd be pulled into Ms. Amelia's room later on so she could scold him about mentioning 'juice' to a child. With a sharp exhale- he bolted towards the exit, leaving what he was sure was a very confused Hazel alone in the hall. </p><p>Once outside, he muttered his answer, only this time Hazel was too far away to hear it. </p><p>"I'm not sick, Hazel... But my heart is."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Not much money</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>"Love doesn't cost a thing."</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>"Love doesn't cost a thing."</em>
</p><p>Another tidbit of bullshit he had picked up from somewhere. Because as far as he was concerned, love cost $19.35. Incidentally, that was also the price for one very happy Grace and a quite content Simon... $19.60 since they ordered extra sauce for their chicken.</p><p>"So how was the drive-thru?" Grace asked, happily stuffing another chicken strip into her mouth. </p><p>"Terrible. Six cars ahead of me and I'm sure the first one was ordering for a family of 12."  </p><p>The blonde rolled his eyes at the memory. There was nothing he loved more than wasting precious time waiting on someone else. He loved it just as much as wasting time on kids asking dumb questions. Which reminded him-</p><p>"I would have been back sooner, but I got sidetracked." He said, taking a sip of his soda to avoid having to elaborate.</p><p>Thankfully, Grace was never one to pry into his work related matters. The dark haired woman simply nodded her head and popped another fry into her mouth. It seemed her attention was focused more on her food than on her friend. He was fine with that. The comfortable silence that fell around them was welcomed. Just the two of them sharing yet another meal together. </p><p>Together but alone.</p><p>It was rare, but they would break company during their down time to do their own thing. Grace was on her phone now, texting friends about their weekend plans that didn't include Simon. He remembered asking about them once, and had been met with a firm "None of your damn buisness." Sure Grace had apologized afterward, but Simon always felt bad for it. So now, he never pryed. Same as Grace. </p><p>It unfortunately meant having to find something to keep himself busy for a piece- usually a crossword puzzle or the like. But even that got boring fast- and though he would never admit it, he craved companionship. Always longing to reach out to someone and have a chat...</p><p>An intrusive thought wormed its way into his mind- <em>'Grace isn't always going to be available though.' </em></p><p>Shaking the thought away, he dug a hand into his pocket and fished out his own phone. The crappy cellphone had a few cracks in the screen and a water stain or two- but it still worked and he wasn't about to get a new one. Like love, better phones also cost money. Unlike love, it cost more than $19.35... Oh well.</p><p>Upon scrolling through his messages, Simon found that he only had 1 unread message. Unsurprisingly, it was from Grace, demanding to know what was taking so long with lunch. A fond smile broke out onto his face as he took to clearing the message- </p><p>
  <em> <strong>*Bing!* </strong> </em>
</p><p>Now, there was a surprise. An incoming message from somehow who wasn't Grace? Absolutely unheard of! The blonde turned to see if Grace had noticed- and found the woman smirking down at her own phone, completely unaware of and uninterested in his situation... </p><p>
  <em>'What did you expect? Just answer the damn message.' </em>
</p><p>A scowl replaced his smile. A feeling of dread washed over him and settled in the pit of his stomach. It sat there awkwardly with his lunch... And yet, he still clicked on the flashing icon. </p><p>
  <strong>Mrs. C: Hi, honey! Hows work? Did you get your glasses? Grace said you were out of contacts. </strong>
</p><p>
  <em>'So thats how I got them...'</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Simon: Yes. I got them. Work is fine. </strong>
</p><p>The response was nearly instantaneous.</p><p>
  <strong>Mrs. C: I'm glad to hear that. I was getting worried about you. </strong>
</p><p>He rolled his eyes. His ex-foster mom had her own children to worry about. Whether she was being honest or not, he didn't like the idea of continuing to burden the woman... Now how to put that gently?</p><p>
  <strong>Simon: I'm an adult. I can handle myself. </strong>
</p><p>That was believable, right?</p><p>
  <strong>Mrs. C: I know you can. I can still worry.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Simon: Well, knock it off. </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Mrs. C: You know I won't. Now, tell me about your day. You're on break right now, right?</strong>
</p><p>It felt like his head was on fire now. After spending all those years setting up walls and boundaries, she still insisted on stepping over them. Always prying where she shouldn't and at the worst of times! It was an awful habit that seemed to have transfered to him, and that frustrated him to no end! After all, he had bigger things to worry about besides- being worried about. </p><p>
  <strong>Simon: You're not my mom. I don't need you meddling in my personal life. I'm a grown man and its not your jo- </strong>
</p><p>Fingers halted above the phone's keyboard. </p><p>
  <em>'I can't say that...' </em>
</p><p>Sheepishly, he held down the backspace, watching as the words disappeared before his very eyes until soon there was nothing left to be deleted but that first sentence.</p><p>
  <em> <strong>*Bing!*</strong> </em>
</p><p>Blue eyes glanced down at his message list, expecting to find another message from his foster mom. However, he instead found a message from an unknown number. Well- not quite unknown. Just one that had been long forgotten for years-</p><p>
  <em><strong>212-085-3120: Can we talk?</strong> </em>
</p><p>The feeling of dread from earlier now felt like a great, lead weight full of knives was pressing down on him. A weight that was crushing him the longer he sat staring at his messages- </p><p>"I'm going for a walk." Simon announced, pushing himself up quickly.</p><p>"Kay. If you do, take the left over with you." Grace called, tossing the bag after him. "Just stick it in my car."</p><p>"S-sure thing." He muttered as he caught the bag and slipped out the door. </p><p>There was no grand mission to be on now. No errand he had to run for someone. It was just him and him alone in an empty hallway. Alone with his thoughts in a silent space. Away from Grace, his phone, his longing-</p><p>"You're back!" </p><p>Simon nearly jumped out of his skin. Spinning around, he spotted none other than little Hazel, still parked outside of her classroom like she belonged there. </p><p>"Hazel- why are you still here!?" He exclaimed. </p><p>"I waited for you!" She giggled, but then her face turned serious. She pointed a chubby finger at the bag he was holding. "You got food! Can I have some?"</p><p>"O-oh, I'd love to give you some, but I can't." He half lied, "Its kinda Grace's food-" </p><p>A tummy rumble from the girl cut him off. His heart broke a little at the sound. It was a sound he was all to familiar with- and one he never wanted to hear again. The sound of a very hungry child...</p><p>The blonde sighed "Oh-... Alright. But don't tell anyone, okay?" </p><p>The girl's eyes went wide, and she nodded her head happily. Before he could react, she tore the bag out of his hand and began digging around in it. Then, like a proud penguin back from a successful hunt, she presented her find: A half eaten container of french fries and two chicken strips. </p><p>"Left overs! Thats how you know its the good stuff." She stated matter-of-factly. </p><p>Hazel then parked herself against the wall and patted a spot on the floor next to her. "Come come." </p><p>Simon forced a smile, and awkwardly took a seat next to her. They sat in silence while she ate. And yet, the man could feel that the girl's attention was fully on him in that moment. </p><p>"Now we gotta talk. Cause that's what people do when they share food."</p><p>"Is that so?" He chuckled, "Maybe you should tell Grace that-"</p><p>That wasn't right. Grace was her own person. She didn't owe him her company whenever they ate, and he knew that. It was just one of the reasons why he had left the room in the first place- right? To give her space? And not to avoid those horrible messsges on his phone?</p><p>"Tut tut, Mr. Simon." Hazel warned. "Now, tell me about your day."</p><p>
  <em>'Now, why does that sound familiar?' </em>
</p><p>"Um- not much to tell. I cleaned and got lunch... You?" Not that he cared. </p><p>"I coloured and didn't take a nap." Hazel replied between bites of chicken. "Oh! And I ate good food!"</p><p>"That sounds really nice..." Dark eyes glanced up at the wall clock. It was almost time for him to return to his post and almost time for Hazel to go back into her classroom. With that in mind, he didn't see any harm in indulging her a little longer. "Do you feel better now?"</p><p>"Mhm! I was crabby, but now my tummy-meter says I'm happy!" Hazel cheered, wrapping her arms around Simon's stomach. "Thaaaaank you!" </p><p>"No need to thank me- just- don't give your snacks to your stuffed animal anymore." He offered as he tried to peel the girl off of him.</p><p>"But then- Tuba would be hungry! I can't have that-"</p><p>"But you can't sleep on an empty stomach. I'm sure Tuba would understand if you only give her half yo-" A pause. "Wait a minute. Tuba is a stuffed animal! She can't eat!"</p><p>Wrong thing to say. Hazel's face turned so red, she looked like a baby tomato. "Tuba is my friend and she can to eat!" </p><p>"Can not." Simon huffed, standing up just in time to avoid a firm smack from a baby fist. "Hey- cut that out! I thought you said you weren't crabby anymore-"</p><p>"Well, now I am!" Hazel whined, aiming another hit right at his hip. "You're being mean to Tuba!"</p><p>Simon sighed, and caught the little girl's fist before she could strike him anywhere that counts. He wasn't about to lose his job over a stuffed animal... </p><p>
  <em>'That would be a way to go... Beaten up by a tot for daring to suggest she stop feeding her toy...'</em>
</p><p>A dry laugh escaped him as he picked Hazel up and opened the classroom door. Instantly, he felt the little one relax into his arms and caught her attempting to stiffle a yawn into his shoulder. A telltale sign that this kiddo was tired. </p><p>Luckily, there was still enough time for her to take a power nap, as the rest of the classroom was still fast asleep.</p><p>"Come on Hazel. Lets get you to bed. </p><p>Scanning the room quickly, Simon happened upon the only empty cot. And by empty, he meant devoid of any sheets or blankets like the other kids. It was no wonder Hazel didn't want to take her nap-</p><p>"Hey, I'll be right back." He whispered as he set the girl down. </p><p>It was cheesy, but since feeding the little gremlin, he now felt obligated to make sure she got some rest too. This included heading back to his own classroom and retrieving his hoodie. It wouldn't hurt it any if he let her borrow it to sleep on. Grace only acknowledged him with a quick smile and a wave. Good. He didn't want to explain this to anyone. </p><p>A quick sprint across the hall, and he was back in Ms. Mall's quiet classroom. By then, Hazel was miserably teetering between sleeping and awake. The perfect time to toss his hoodie over her and dash away without any issues or before any more words could be exchanged. </p><p>He couldn't afford another unwanted conversation today. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Oh, But Honey</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Grace and Simon spend the weekend away from each other.</p><p>*edited</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Saturdays were a time of rest and relaxation. A reward for a job well done during the week before. A break to recuperate until the following Monday. Time to spend a moment on personal projects- Yet Simon was doing none of that. Instead, he was helping Grace load up her own car for her girl's weekend. Unsurprisingly, his friend had at least 6 bags packed for the two day trip. </p><p>He'd ask what all of it was for, but Grace was currently on her phone, ignoring him. </p><p>"Yeah- I'm heading over now." The woman laughed to- whoever she was talking to. "I've just got to give the keys to my co-worker and I'll head out." </p><p>'Co-worker'-... There was a term the pair didn't use often. It was usually either 'Buddy' or 'best friend', unless directed to someone the other didn't know personally. And Simon *really* didn't know any of Grace's other friends personally or impersonally. He knew he shouldn't take any offense to it, that it was silly to even spare it a second thought, but it did sting a little. Especially after a long and wonderful work week of being Grace's only friend. </p><p>"Okay. That's everything." Now Grace's attention was back on him. "Try not to ding up my mom's ride while I'm gone, okay?"</p><p>Her playful smile when she slipped the keys into his pocket was warm like the summer sun. She had been looking forward to this trip for so long and it showed throughout her. From the skip in her step, even down to the way she talked... There was a part of him that hated it. That hated seeing her so happy without him. But the part of him that ever showed through was the one that grinned and bared it until she was out of sight... But never out of mind. </p><p><em>'Let her go, Simon. She's not one of your miniatures.' </em>Was that his own inner-voice? Or another one of those indiums he could never seem to place? "Okay. Thanks."</p><p>"I forgot to ask what you needed mom's car for." Grace said, leaning on the hood of her car. "Big plans this weekend?"</p><p><em>No... </em>"You could say that." <em>You're- not lying.</em> </p><p>"Well, have fun. I'll see you on Monday." </p><p>
  <em>Don't go...</em>
</p><p>Simon watched as Grace got into her car, and called after her as she backed down the driveway. "Ha. Try not to have too much fun!" </p><p>
  <em>Take me with you... </em>
</p><p>"Ha! I totally will!" She called back. "Bye!" </p><p>
  <em>I hate when you're gone...</em>
</p><p>Soon, her car had disappeared, down the road and out of his sight. His heart clenched, though his rational mind reminded him that it wouldn't be long before he saw her again... It did nothing to calm him. That 'rational' self had lied to him before and he didn't doubt it wouldn't lie to him again.</p><p>
  <em>Just let her go, Simon... You have somewhere to be today... </em>
</p><p>"Right... I have plans today."</p><hr/><p>Not good plans, but they were enough to pass the day by in good company. Well- not good company by his standards, but company none the less. </p><p>"Welcome back, Mr. Laurent. Are you ready to continue our session?" </p><p>Soft blue eyes drifted around the office. From the self-help posters, to the toys on the floor for child clients, all the way up to the woman behind the desk. She appeared kindly enough, but her aging smile didn't provide the same warmth and comfort that Grace's always did. Even after all of these years. </p><p>Simom had come to this woman as a child. Mostly to work on his anger. And he had always felt that that time in her office was enough to last him a lifetime- until recently. He had set an appointment for the first time in years last spring. And since then, every Saturday morning, he parked himself on the same old couch that held him once as a child. Ready to bare his soul for the next hour. </p><p>Reluctantly, of course. "I-I guess so."</p><p>"Last week we talked about your friend." </p><p>"C-co-worker, actually." He corrected, "Grace."</p><p>As much as it felt wrong to discuss Grace when she wasn't around, it had to be done- The exact reason for why hadn't come out yet. </p><p>"Yes, and how is she?"</p><p>A gulp. </p><p><em>Don't be nervous. Therapists can smell fear.</em> "Fine... She's out of town for the weekend."</p><p>"Nothing serious, I hope." That was a bait question if ever he heard one. And he heard plenty of them.</p><p>"No. Just a vacation with friends." That felt so uncomfortable to say.</p><p>"And how does that make you feel, Simon?" Steely eyes pierced his soul, daring him to lie. </p><p>The man winced. This was always his least favorite part. When the therapist would pick him apart, bit by bit. The shield built between visits crumbling and falling away before him. Thats when he started talking- and he hated the sound of his own voice. </p><p>"It doesn't make me feel anything- lonely, maybe." Another wince at how pathetic he was. "B-but I don't own her." </p><p>Right now, he was simply repeating what he had learned from the last time. </p><p>"Thats good to hear." The woman scribbled something down. "Why didn't you make any plans this weekend, Simon?"</p><p>"I- had no one I wanted to be around-"</p><p>"Then why not be by yourself? Its okay to do things on your own."</p><p>"I know- its just.... Lonely."</p><p>And it truly was. The only one who was ever constantly with him was his inner voice. And even that wasn't enough company for him... Sometimes, it could make him feel even worse if he was left alone with it for long enough...</p><p>"I understand. And what of your family? You said last week that they had an event planned this weekend." </p><p>He felt choked now. "I'm not going to bother them... I'm just their former kid. It wouldn't be right disrupting them." </p><p>"They invited you, didn't they?" She asked, "Remember how we talked about working on making connections?" </p><p>"I know, I know." Simon sighed, the action helping to relieve some of the pressure in his chest.</p><p>"Do you feel you've made any progress with that?" She asked, "And remember that even a little progress is still progress."</p><p>Simon's gaze dropped into his lap. Out of nervous habit, he began picking at the white threads of his hoodie sleeves. All the while, he was also picking at the loose threads in his mind. Searching for any that could be labled as "Effort", "Progress", or "Doing the absolute bare minimum".</p><p>Only one popped up.</p><p>"I-... Made some progress this week, actually-"</p><p>Seeing the woman's smile brighten almost made him feel good. Accomplished even. "Would you like to talk about it?" </p><p>"I can't really say much." A pause, "It was just one of the kids from work. She ate some of my lunch, and that was it."</p><p>"That is excellent, Simon. I remember your first session back when you said all of the children were little "Hell Spawns"." </p><p>That drew a laugh from him- and then a frown. Showing basic human decency to a child WHILE IT WAS IN HIS JOB DESCRIPTION isn't what he would call 'excellent'. Hell, talking to a *child* wasn't what he would call 'connecting to other human beings' either. In reality, all he had done was interact with Grace as usual...</p><p>And maybe Mrs. Cosay. But he wasn't about to mention having any sort of communication with her at this time. A frown etched its way onto his face at the thought. </p><p>
  <em>You're not obligated to talk about it if you don't feel comfortable. No one is forcing you.</em>
</p><p>"I guess-" His frown only deepened.</p><p>"You guess? Give yourself some credit." Concern was present in the woman's voice, but Simon was sure she was only paid to sound that way.</p><p>"You know I hate taking credit." He huffed. "It wasn't an earthshattering event." </p><p>"It never is, but that doesn't mean it isn't important." She replied.</p><p>"This one wasn't. The kid thinks I'm chronically ill because of a slip up I didn't mean to say out loud." </p><p>Suspicous eyes looked him over- at least he felt they were suspicious. Suspicious and always judging him. Everytime he opened his mouth. "what was the slip up?" </p><p>"I um... Called juice "medicine"?" Innocent sounding enough- but the blonde knew and the therapist knew that was bullshit. </p><p>"Have you been drinking again, Simon?" Busted.</p><p>"Only on Thursdays with Grace-" He admitted, feeling a bit of shame well up in his chest, "Honest."</p><p>"Is that so?" Those suspicious eyes seemed to harden. It may have just been him making assumptions, but he was sure he saw anger flickering behind them.</p><p>"Yes-" Simon shrunk down against the couch. Hoping and praying it would just swallow him up. </p><p>"Very well." Another scribble was added to her clipboard. "But returning to our earlier topic- You should visit with the Cosay's. I'm sure they miss you."</p><p>This wasn't the time to argue. That would be just giving her free ammunition. It also was not the time to let her know how he was truly feeling. The overwhelming loneliness would pass and he knew it. No use bringing it up just yet. It would be easier to just grin and bare it. </p><p>"Yes, ma'am..." </p><hr/><p>He felt sick when he arrived... He could hear shouting from the backyard. Happy cries from two excitable little boys as they splashed around in the family pool... A pool he had spent just as much time in as he did his therapist's office. Back when he still loved swimming to clear his mind.</p><p>That was before adult life happened. Once he turned 18, he was out in the real world. With rent and taxes due whenever he'd break the surface to breathe... What he was doing back now- he wasn't sure. Just about to walk in, unannounced but not uninvited. </p><p>
  <em>Would they mind it...?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You know they wouldn't...</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Does it matter?</em>
</p><p>Blurry eyes glanced down at the car's current gear setting. The glowing green P burned his eyes. Reminding him with just one pull on the stickshift, and he could be speeding away like he had never been there. Before anyone knew he had stopped by... He could just go home. Back to that dark, empty apartment, where his dead phone currently was. Alone with unread messages until work on Monday...</p><p>Or he could go in, and knock on the front door. If anyone answered, he was sure they'd be happy to see him- or maybe not. Grace always seemed happy to see him, but even she wanted time away from him, so maybe they did too? But... He did promise to work on conntecting with others- Maybe this would be good for him? Maybe just this once, he'd make the right decision?</p><p>"Simon!" Decision time. He had been spotted!</p><p>Nate and his mother were at the backgate now. They both looked surprised, and the blonde got the sinking feeling that wasn't a good thing. </p><p>
  <em>So many choices... But which one is the right one?</em>
</p><p>"Leaving. Always leaving." He muttered, fumbling to switch the gears on the car. </p><p>
  <em>Too late. She's coming this way. </em>
</p><p>"Crap-" He was backed into a corner now. "Is it too late to pretend I forgot something at home-?"</p><p>
  <em>Yes...</em>
</p><p>In the time it took him to panic, his former foster-mother was at the passenger side door. She tapped the window, before gesturing for him to roll down the window. The look of surprise was gone from her face, but a smile wasn't replacing it...</p><p>
  <em>You're trespassing... Keep the window up.</em>
</p><p>He rolled it down. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Ain't We Have Fun (Reprise)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A much needed break from angst.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Grace's POV: </strong>
</p><p>After a long week of babysitting kids <strike>and Simon </strike>, Grace looked forward to nothing more than spending an entire weekend away from both. A girl's trip with her mom and friends was just was she needed. Sure, it wasn't nickle shot night at Jamie's, but it was going to be just as fun and she knew it! </p><p>
  <em>'You earned this, Grace. Give yourself a pat on the back!' </em>
</p><p>Her heart was racing with excitement. It had been too long since she could afford to go on a trip. She really had earned this and nothing and no one was gonna ruin it for her-</p><p>"Grace! Hurry up. We're leaving." </p><p>The young woman jerked her head up.Their flight was now boarding. Soon they'd be thousands of miles in the air and on their way.  And in a few hours they'd be at the beach, hopefully too drunk to remember how many days until Monday. Which was two short days, in fact- all with no cellphone reception to speak of...</p><p>That poor idiot she called a co-worker would be so lost. </p><p>"Just a sec- I'm gonna call Simon real quick!" Grace called.</p><p>They still had time before take-off. That would be enough time for a quick 'Bon Voyage' or whatever Simon would say. Not that he ever did a send-off in the time Grace had known him. It would be interesting to hear what he would come up with. </p><p>
  <strong>*Ring Ring.... Ring Ring... Ring...</strong>
  <strong>*</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>"You've reached the voice-mail box of-" </em>
</p><p>Grace frowned as she hung up and tried again. When the voice-mail picked up a second time- she tried her luck with a third attempt. And still, no answer. </p><p>"Huh, thats weird... Simon always answers his phone..." The frown deepened. Grace felt a pinch of concern settle in her stomach. "I hope everythings okay-" </p><p>
  <em>'He's fine. He said he had plans. Go enjoy your vacation and just call him when you get back.'</em>
</p><p>Taking a breath for courage, the dark haired woman chucked her phone back into her bag. She had already said that nothing and no one was going to ruin her trip, and she was determined to abide by those terms. Nothing, not Simon or concern was going to bring her down. It was just her overthinking. </p><p>"Whatever. I'm sure he's having fun wherever he is."</p><hr/><p>
  <strong>Simon's POV</strong>
</p><p>Being poked in the eye repeatedly by a human half his size wasn't what Simon would call 'fun'... Its what he would call a 'minimum wage job'. Incidentally, it's also what he could call a 'Saturday afternoon'. As Nate was relentlessly trying to get his attention- or blind him. Sometimes it was very hard to tell. </p><p>The poking was made worse by the residual pool water on somehow still on Nate's hand. That shit stung worse than eyedrops. </p><p>"Simon! Simon! Look at me!" The little boy cooed, pulling a fistful of the blonde's hair. </p><p>"I am looking at you!" Really, he wasn't.</p><p>He was also only listening with half an ear. The other half was directed at Mrs. Cosay-who was currently doing *nothing* to control her little monster! Instead she was pouring another glass of pink lemonade, occasionally filling and tying off another water balloonn, oh and completely ignoring Simon's suffering- something the young man was very familiar with. </p><p>"I'm glad you could stop by." Whittney laughed, tossing a water balloon back and forth "The boys kept asking if I heard from you."</p><p>"And you did... Yesterday."</p><p>Yesterday felt so long ago, and Monday felt even further away. Sure, come Sunday he'd be singing a different tune- as he always did. But at that moment it felt like time was standing still. What felt like two hours already had been a few short minutes in reality.</p><p>Another eye jab brought Simon's attention down to Nate. The tot looked ready to burst with excitment. "We didn't think you were coming!" </p><p>"I didn't think so either. I've been pretty busy lately-" </p><p>"With what?" Whittney's expression turned playful, "Were you busy losing your contacts at obscure locations again?" </p><p>A deep blush painted his cheeks so quickly, his head spun from it. "Grace told you...?"</p><p>Whittney winked. "Honey, I raised you. I knew the moment you asked for your glasses."  </p><p>If that blush got any darker, his head would swell. He was sure of it. By now, he was praying to every God out there who would hear him to send a distraction to save him from any further embarrassment...</p><p>And as if by some miracle, out walked Jesse. At least- he assumed it was Jesse. Last time Simon had seen him the boy was a foot shorter with his head always bowed low. Whoever walked out looked like a proud, confident kid whose eyes were sparkling with excitement. </p><p>
  <em>'Has it really been that long? When did Jesse get so big?'</em>
</p><p>"Hey, Simon! Good to see you!" It was definitely Jesse. "Are you going swimming with us?"</p><p>Even with the voice crack, he still sounded like the little tyke Simon spent 8 years with. This was further proven when the boy ran over and practically tackled his former foster-brother in a tight hug. Just like when he was small- only this time he actually managed to knock the other over. </p><p>"Boys! No rough housing." Whittney called, </p><p>"We're just hugging." Jesse laughed, "Right, Si?"</p><p>The blonde huffed, wincing at the pain in his back and the weight of two brothers on his chest. Both smelled heavily of Chlorine, and that certainly didn't make things anymore pleasant than they already weren't. If Simon cared, he would have pushed them both off. But this, coupled with his other aches and pains, kept him right where he had fallen. Right on the soft grass where he used to spend most of his nights, just watching the stars in childlike wonder... </p><p>
  <em>'Those days are gone. You've got rent due.' </em>
</p><p>"Right..." Who he was replying to, he wasn't sure. </p><p>With a bit of effort, the young man pushed himself up onto his elbows. Just enough that he would sit up if he eventually wanted to. Meanwhile, the brothers had rolled off of him. Sprawled out on either side of him- like two prison guards. Making sure he didn't go anywhere without them knowing it. </p><p>Well, if he was going to be stuck there, he might as well make pleasant conversation. "So- whats new, guys?" </p><p>Jesse smirked, taking on a playful expression that would rival their mother's own. "Not much. Nate has a girlfriend." </p><p>"I do noooooot!" Nate whined, stamping both fists into the grass, "Shes just a girl!"</p><p>"Oh? A girl?" Simon raised an eyebrow and hoped it made him look somewhat interested.</p><p>The youngest nodded. "Ya huh! I met her on the park! Shes funny and has fluffy hair and she's coming over to visit today!" </p><p>The boy's childlike innocence was as sweet as it was saddening. Simon remembered being that young and excitable. Then life happened, and he grew up so fast that he was now in therapy, trying to catch up with time and how it had somehow changed him without him realizing it... It made him pray harder that Nate wouldn't end up like that. </p><p>
  <em>'Stay small a little longer...'</em>
</p><p>"I-Is that so? What's her name?" </p><p>"Her name is-" Without any warning, Nate shrieked and used Simon's stomach as a launchpad to send him hurtling towards the back gate. "HAZEL!" </p><p>
  <em>'Hazel-...? Theres no way...' </em>
</p><p>Sitting up, Simon wrapped an arm around his bruised entrails (and possible broken ribs from Jesse) and turned himself towards the back gate. Sure enough- there she was. That plucky young lass who guilted him onto a free lunch. And tucked under her arm, was Tuba. </p><p>"Nate!" Hazel screeched back, dashing over and squishing her friend in a tigh hug. "Tuba is so happy to see you! She didn't want to come at first cause nerves made her tummy hurt, but she's all better now!"</p><p>Simon couldn't help but chuckle at the banter. "Tuba wasn't the only one." He muttered. </p><p>Mistake #1. For Hazel's super hearing had caught the his voice and she set her sight's on him. The little girl's face and gone from 'excited' to 'crazy excited'. She then used her super child speed to catch the man in a hug before he could even flinch. </p><p>"Hiiiiii! You're the guy who gave me chicken! And your coat. It smells like a campfire!" Hazel squeaked, pushing her dirty, sweaty kid face closer to Simon's. </p><p>"Um- yeah..." Simon hummed, lightly pushing at the girl's face before turning to Whittney. "I-I should go-"</p><p>The woman frowned. "But you just got here-"</p><p>"Yes- but Hazel is a student in the Apex room where I work- I think this violates some kind of Daycare Law for or something..." Or something. He was 90% sure. </p><p>Whittney folded her arms tight and her frown deepened. "You just got here! I'm sure its fine." </p><p>"Yeah, but rent is due and I don't want to risk my job-"</p><p>Before he even had a chance to get up, he had the weight of not one- but three kids now baring down on him. A chorus of 'No! Don't go!'s was being sung *directly* into his ear. Even Hazel had locked her little arms tightly around him. </p><p>"Come on, Simon. The boys want to see their big brother." Whittney's frown had transformed into a warm smile. One that was too kind for the likes of Simon Laurent...</p><p>
  <em>'It wouldn't hurt to visit-.'</em>
</p><p>"No."  </p><p>Whittney's disappointed frown isn't what made Simon feel unease. It was the playful smirk that followed that frown that disturbed him. Whatever she was planning, he wasn't going to like- </p><p>"Boys! Help me push your brother in the pool!" Mrs. Cosay called, racing to lock the gate before Simon could escape. "You too, Hazel!" </p><p>"Oh God- No!" The blonde yelped, shaking the trio from him and springing to his feet. </p><p>He took off running across the backyard, his former family still advancing on him. With no clear exit, he was going to have to fight his way out- or at least run until they got tired. </p><p>"Come on- knock it off-" He called over his shoulder. </p><p>"Not until you play with us!" Jesse yelled back. </p><p>No sooner had Simon turned back to see where he was going did he slam into the patio table. And on it- Mrs. Cosay's water balloons. A completely juvenile thought crossed his mind.</p><p>Fine then. "You want me to play? I'll show you playing!"</p><p>The pink balloon was grabbed and tossed as hard as he could. It sailed through the air- and hit Whittney directly in the face. The poor woman was drench on impact- and yet she still laughed in delight. A clear indication that it was safe for Simon to grab another balloon. </p><p>"Get him!" She yelled to her mini-army. "I only made ten balloons! He'll be out soon!" </p><p>For the first time in a long time, Simon felt a genuine laugh bubbling up in his chest. Grabbing two more balloons, he made quick work of hitting Nate and then Jesse, leaving on Hazel dry. </p><p>"Better watch out Hazel!" A toss and a miss.</p><p>"No, you watch out!" The little girl laughed, racing with the others towards him. </p><p>Another toss, and another direct hit. Then another, and another until soon there was only one measly balloon left- and a Whittney now lunging at him. </p><p>
  <em>'Wait- Did I bring spare clothes?' </em>
</p><p>Crap... "Oh geez- Wait! Armistice!" </p><p>It was too late. The last balloon was dropped and Simon was tackled into the pool, screaming and laughing the whole way down. The bitter water burned his throat and nose, and the chill of the water worked its way into his now soaked clothes- but he found he didn't mind for once. </p><p>He didn't even mind when the kids jumped in after them and started a splash fight. It wasn't nickle shot night at Jamie's- but it was fun. </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. The Rent's Unpaid, Dear</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A flashback.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>
    <em>13 Years Earlier: </em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Grace had always been there. For as long as he could remember, she had been there. They had gone to pre-school together, he was pretty sure they had been to a classmate's birthday party together- They weren't friends, per say, but- associates? That had to be why she invited him to her Halloween party... Why else?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"The party is at 5pm, October 13th!" The girl had called over her shoulder. "And don't be late!"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He had been so excited at first. But as the day of the party approached, he began to grow concerned. Paranoid that the invite had been a mistake. That he would show up and be rejected at the door. </em>
  <em>That his mother wouldn't be able to take him. Even though she had said she would. She promised, and even wrote the date down on the calendar. Simon made sure to remind her every single day. He was also extra helpful around the house, so his mother would only have to worry about driving him. He felt he had done everything right-</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Then the day arrived. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Mom? </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Simon frowned. The house was quiet- too quiet. It had been for a long time. Ever since he came home from school. Not that the quiet was different from any other day, but he had hoped today would be different this time. The party invite had been pinned to the fridge all week-</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"She didn't forget... Did she?" His frown deepened. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He checked the kitchen first- empty. Then the livingroom, and her room. Still, no sign of his mother. Not even a note. She wasn't home again... It was getting dark out by then. The party had already started a half hour ago- He couldn't wait for her. So instead, he grabbed the invite and stuffed it into his costume pocket.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"... I'll walk. Its not far..." </em>
</p><hr/><p>
  <em>2 miles wasn't a long walk- right?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It was certainly tiring. And very very chilly. Cold air whipped passed him, sinking into his soldier costume until he was shaking so hard he could barely see walk straight. It was dark and a fresh blanket of sleet hid the sidewalk from view- but he could still make out street signs in the flickering street lamps. Only half a block left to go. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"I hope Grace's house is warm." The 10 year old said to no one in particular. A low grumble from his stomach answered him. "I hope she has good food too." </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The pleasant conversation with himself warmed him. It was nice when he could agree with himself on something. So often was it when he found his heart at odds with his head. But not tonight. Tonight was going to be fun! Just like the invite said. With that in mind, the boy let out a breathy laugh and ran as fast as his tired legs could carry him  the rest of the way. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The large house was in sight now, decorated to the nines in very high end Halloween decore. The lights were so bright, it hurt Simon's eyes, but he hardly cared. To the frigid boy, it was like a homing beacon. It warmed and welcomed him instantly, and he forgot about the pain in his legs or the numbness in his fingers. He spotted Grace in the front room window.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She was dressed like a very expensive princess. All glitter and gold, except for the pout she wore on her pudgy face. That look chased away any feeling of joy or comfort the boy had been feeling. The thought of a long walk back to a cold, empty house weighed heavy on his soul... And yet, he stilled climbed the stairs. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>His legs screaming at him the whole time, and knocked on the door with swollen fingers. Then he waited... And waited... Tears pricked the corners of his eyes as he became painfully aware of just how cold and dark it was. He began to feel lonely- and scared. His cheeks were hot from embarrassment, and every fiber of his being was screaming at him to turn around and leave now. And he almost listened, when suddenly the door flew open and he was pulled into a near crushing hug. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"You're late!" Grace huffed, "I told you not to be- Now come in! You're freezing!"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The princess wasted absolutely no time in grabbing his frozen arm and pulling him inside. The sudden warmth of the livingroom brought tears of relief to the boys blurry eyes. There was a table set up with various foods and deserts for the party, a wooden tub filled with apples, and a projector quietly playing Halloween cartoons against the far wall- best of all. There was a squishy couch for him to rest on, and he all but collapsed on it. The only thing missing was- other children. Grace had invited their entire class, after all.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Where is everyone?" Simon asked, though part of him hardly cared. He was tired, and thankful that the room was quiet.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Everyone else left." Grace replied, snagging two cupcakes from the table and joining him on the couch. "You were the last to show up."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>A hot blush spread across the boy's face. Now he felt utterly embarrassed... "R-really?"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Thats okay. We've got lots of cupcakes and pizza and games!" Grace went on, squishing the entire cupcake into her mouth and offering him a wide, messy grin. "So eat lots!" </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Simon couldn't help but snort at the mess. He looked down at his own cupcake. Vanilla, with orange and purple frosting and a big gummy spider on it. It almost looked too fancy to eat- alone that way. He raced to the dessert table and grabbed a second cupcake, smushing both into his mouth before Grace could question it. The girl howled in laughter.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"You look like a chubby bunny!" She screamed, hopping off of the couch to join him. This time rolling a slide of pizza up into a ball and attempting to fit it into her mouth.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Simon had to turn away just to swallow his food without choking from laughter. Then, following Grace's example, he also rolled up his own slice. Unlike Grace, however, he took reasonably sized bites out of the ball. His empty stomach would thank him for it. Luckily, Grace didn't rush him. She handed him a glass of apple juice instead, and directed him over to the wooden tub. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Mom says we can't have water for bobbing with- but we can still try to get apples." She explained. "I've been practicing. So I'll probably get more than you."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Is that a challenge?" Simon teased, finishing up the last of his pizza. He always liked challenges. His mom seemed to like them too.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Grace frowned, but then smirked and pulled off her crown and tossed it aside. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"You bet it is!"</em>
</p><hr/><p>
  <em>They had lost track of how many times they tried and failed to get an apple out of the tub- but it didn't bother them. The pair called it a draw and simply used their hands. Grace's parents had set up a chocolate fountain and candy to decorate their apples with, and they parked themselves on pillows in front of the projected movie. <strong>Mad, Mad Monster Party </strong>was playing. It wasn't Simon's favorite Halloween special, but he wasn't going to complain. His stomach and heart were full, and it seemed like Grace's was as well. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The warmth of the house and of Grace's voice as she complained about the movie soothed him. Soothed him so much that he found himself nodding off onto his pillow. The hot glue spiderweb on the front wasn't the most comfortable, but he would take it. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Simon? Is your mom going to pick you up." Grace whispered during a commercial. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"I was just going to walk home." He admitted, heavy eyes fluttering open for a moment.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"You can't do that! I wouldn't be a good hostess if you did!" Grace gasped, "Why don't you stay the night?" </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"I'd have to a-" He paused. His stomach felt very empty suddenly and his heart was in knots. All of the warmth had been snuffed out like a candle. For a moment, he had forgotten that his mother wasn't home. That she usually wasn't. Or how she was always 'okay' with him spending the night as someone else's house. So long as he wasn't home when she had company. For a moment, he almost felt happy. "If its alright with your parents."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Its fine. Come on! I'll go get us some flashlights and we can stay up late and tell each other ghost stories!" The girl rushed off before he could respond, leaving him in the empty livingroom, all alone.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Though, unlike at home, this loneliness felt welcomed. He knew Grace hadn't gone far. She'd be back any minute now and they'd be back to their merrymaking. They'd have more fun until one or both of them fell asleep. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The next morning, who knows? But if it was a sleepover at Grace's house, it was bound to be fun. He had someone to wake up to. Someone who liked having him around enough to invite him to a party. A party so great that he couldn't wait to go home to tell his mom about it. She'd love to hear about the chocolate fountain. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Its going to be so much fun. This is going to be great!" </em>
</p><hr/><p>The next day, he was taken by Child Protective Services...</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. We Haven't a Car</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Flashback continues</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>He was 13 when he landed with the Cosay family. Before that, he was bounced around between various family members. A grandmother who passed away shortly after, an aunt who had a busy schedule and family of her own, and an uncle who he hadn't heard of before. All ended- badly. To say the absolute least. His uncle being the worst of it. But what was he meant to do? He was just a child... </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The only thing he could do was get into the next mysterious car that came for him and nap as it took him wherever he needed to go. Never where he wanted to go. Never to a friend's party or the store for a snack or two on off days. Those were things he had to work for- or in this case- walk for. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Like going to visit Grace at her house. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>It was one of his few comforts. A day at Grace's house, just eating good food and swimming around in her pool. It was always amazing from start to finish... His mom had said once that you make your own paradise, but Grace proved that sometimes your friends made it for you... If only it wasn't so damn far...</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"You know, Simon- my driver said he'd pick you up. You don't have to walk." Speaking of which.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It was a hot summer day, and Grace was currently fanning him with her hand, all while pressing a cold glass to his forehead. He was sure he looked a mess, with sweat pouring down his face from his travels. If he wasn't so heat striken, he would have knocked her hands away from him... Well, if it didn't feel so nice he would have. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"It would be too confusing. Your house hasn't changed. Its easier to find you than me." He muttered, weakly reaching for another water bottle. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"As my mom would say- 'Nonsense-'." Grace huffed, finally handing it to him. "If we leave from school, its no problem-"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Simon groaned. "I'm not going to be going to your school this year, remember? My new foster family lives too far away."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Simon, I've known you a while. Theres no place you could go thats too far." She said. "Believe me. You've tried."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Don't say it like that- what if this time his different!?" Simon exclaimed, sitting up so fast his head spun. "What if I end up going so far away that I never see you again!? What then!? 3 years gone just like that!"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Grace shushed him with a finger to his lips. He went quiet, but he didn't settle at all. His face felt warm- warmer than it had been earlier, as he waited for Grace's response. Surely she knew as well as he did. Her finger left his lips, and her hands raised to cup his already heated face. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Grace-" </em>
</p><p>
  <em>She pressed her lips to his softly, like in one of the many movies they had watched together. It was soft, and brief, and confusing- he'd have to ask her about it as soon as she pulled back- which ended up being sooner than he thought it would have been.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"There. To remember me by." She said, smiling her signature warming smile at him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"... Grace, WHY did you kiss me!?" He exclaimed.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"I saw it in a movie once. Don't you feel better now?" Her smile widened, and Simon couldn't help but smile with her. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"You are such a nerd!" He laughed, hopping to his feet and wrapping his arms around her tightly.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The girl was laughing and snorting all the while. Even as he walked them both to the pool and jumped in, effectively ruining their summer clothes with chlorinated water... He hoped the Cosay family at a pool. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He also hoped Grace meant it when she said that visiting wouldn't be a problem. He wanted her to stick around and be his friend. He wanted to be able to see her whenever he wished. To play with her whenever he was able. Because 13 wasn't just the age he was placed with the Cosay family.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It was also the age when he realized he was in love with Grace Monroe.</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. But In Any Way, Dear</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Back in present day, Simon reacts to his flashbacks, unaware that someone else is watching.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>"Life has it's ups and downs. Be prepared for both."</em>
</p><p>It had been such a good Saturday... They all swam until their legs were tired, and then dried out in the sun. Then later that evening, they all warmed up by a fire Mr. Cosay built for them. Nate and Hazel fell asleep first and were tucked into bed, leaving Jesse and Simon to catch up long into the night. It was 1AM by the time Simon decided to head out- only to find that Whittney had hidden his keys somewhere he was too tired to look for. </p><p>In the end, a quick visit had turned into a sleepover in his childhood bedroom. Curled up in familiar sheets under his old band posters. The perfect end to a semi-perfect day- and yet he woke up unhappy. His dreams plagued by visions of the bittersweet past. The events that had lead up to this, the last time he was happy- Grace... It startled him awake, his stomach in knots. He felt nauseous, but the feeling soon subsided as he looked about his surroundings.</p><p>
  <em>It's only a dream... Don't think about it.</em>
</p><p>Yet think he did. The Halloween party, being tossed between houses, all of those long walks... His shirt was clinging to him from sweat and pool water by now. There wasn't a bat's chance in Hell he was going to be able to sleep comfortably like this.  </p><p>"Might as well be up... Its already-" Heavy eyes glances over to the alarm clock beside him. "3AM... Shit..." </p><p>Sitting up quickly, he peeled his shirt off and chucked it over the nearest vent in his room before getting up. Simon's legs ached- well, his everything ached. He supposed thats what he got for never exercising a day in his life. It brought a bitter smirk to his face as he quietly stumbled out into the hall. The hall was dark and near silent, indicating that no one else was awake to disturb him. </p><p>"Perfect..." This meant two things.</p><p>One being that he could relieve himself without having to worry about the sticky lock on the bathroom door- and the second being that he could brood without anyone to disturb him. And boy did he need to brood. </p><p>
  <em>Its been years since I dreamt about mom...</em>
</p><p>That was a good place to start. </p><p>He ended up in the kitchen and slid into the nearest chair. His head was spinning, begging him to go back to sleep, but he wouldn't. Instead, he slipped his cellphone from his pocket and checked his messages. The bright screen hurt his eyes, but they adjusted quickly.</p><p>
  <strong>(2) New Messages </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Grace-Work: Found some signal! Hope you're having a good week! </strong>
</p><p>A soft smile stretched across his face- but it fell quickly. There was a feeling of longing for Grace, a byproduct of his dreaming of her. Yet despite that, he didn't want to talk to her right now. That would disrupt her day- and he couldn't do that to her. He marked the text as <strong>read</strong>, and moved onto the next one. </p><p>
  <strong> <em>212-085-3120: Simon, answer your phone. </em> </strong>
</p><p>His heart stilled in his chest, before coming back full throttle. Any longing for Grace was replaced by what he could only describe as rage. Of course, <em>she </em>picked this time to reach out. Just as he was having fun, and getting comfortable... Thats how it always went, after all. His throat felt dry and tight suddenly- but he wasn't about to cry for someone who didn't deserve it. </p><p>
  <em>Just get a coke and go back to bed... Deal with it when the sun's up...</em>
</p><p>Slipping over to the fridge, his eyes were again assaulted by a bright light- but being that he was now on a mission, he didn't mind it any. He was searching for a red can amongst a fully stocked fridge... Yet his sore eyes instantly landed on a golden one instead. Sure, it wasn't an ideal choice of beverage-</p><p>
  <em>Shut up. Its just a beer. Its justified.</em>
</p><p>Then why did it feel like he was doing something wrong when he picked it up? Why did he take extra precautions in making sure he opened the can as silent as he could? Why was he asking so many questions as he took a sip-</p><p>"Is that special juice?" Hazel's voice, so sweet and cute during the day, sounded like a God damn horror film kid's this late at night.</p><p>The girl was staring at him, wide eyed, with a blanket draped over her like a little cartoon ghost. </p><p>Simon nearly choked on a combination of beer and air as he wheeled around, "H-Hazel!? What are you doing up!?"</p><p>"Potty." She replied, shuffling to his abandoned chair and climbing into it. "You?"</p><p>"I- uh... Couldn't sleep." Simon muttered, closing the fridge behind him. "My shirt was we- My shirt-!" </p><p>A red blush fell over him, and he glanced around the room for something to cover himself up with. He may have been a lost cause, but he was still a gentleman with a boss that would have his head if she found out he had been shirtless around a student. Seemingly sensing his discomfort, Hazel offered up her blanket and he quickly took it. The fabric providing him both with warmth and decency. </p><p>Hazel smiled, "Now- <em>is </em>that your medicine juice? I wanted to try one, but Nate's daddy said no- he said it also was for grown-ups! Just like you!" </p><p>"Y-yeah... I guess it is..." Simon coughed awkwardly. </p><p>"What it for? Do you get tummy aches really bad like Tuba?" </p><p>"No- its hard to explain." Not a total lie. "It just makes me feel better." </p><p>Hazel gasped. "Would it make me feel better too!?"</p><p>Before Simon could react, the tot had climbed onto his chair, desperately trying to snatch the can from his hand. She only managed to stick her nose in it, thank God... And luckily, her nose wrinkled up in disgust and not interest.</p><p>"It doesn't smell very good... But I guess medicine never does." She huffed, "Betcha its supposed to "taste like bubblegum" too, right?"</p><p>Simon felt the ghost of a smile. "Actually, it's supposed to taste like bread soda...?"</p><p>"That sounds yucky... You keep it. I don't want any." The girl crossed her arms for emphasis. A reaction so cute that Simon couldn't help but laugh at it. </p><p>"Good. You shouldn't be drinking it anyway-" </p><p>Hazel's stubborn face suddenly turned to a serious one. She looked- perplexed by something. "But what if I get your condition?" </p><p>Simon paused mid-sip of beer. "My condition? Where do you come up with this?"</p><p>"You said it was medicine to make you feel good. You gotta have a condition that makes you feel really bad to need medicine for it!"</p><p>"Is that so?" An eyebrow raise. </p><p>"Yes! Now answer my question."</p><p>"Okay, Ms. Bossy..." A pause as he searched for an answer, "I... Guess if when you're older and you- Wait no. Don't drink this. Theres better things for my- um... Condition."</p><p>"So why do you drink?" </p><p>He winced, but realized quickly that Hazel wasn't asking why he drank alcohol. To her, it was just juice. This was just an innocent conversation- not a therapy session. No reason to delve into his personal life- at least, not completely anyway.</p><p>"I've... Had some bad people do bad things to me and- sometimes it makes me sad." He shrugged, "And when I get too sad, I drink something and feel better."</p><p>"Like when I have a glass of milk to feel better?" Hazel asked. </p><p>"Is that you asking me to get you a glass of milk?" Simon smirked, setting his beer aside. </p><p>"Yes please."</p><p>Nodding, he rose from his chair and returned to the fridge. The light inside wasn't as bright this time, and he resisted the urge to grab another beer in favor of getting Hazel her milk. A fairly simple task to keep the kid quiet.</p><p>"Is Ms. Grace one of the bad people?" </p><p>The gallon of milk slid from Simon's hand, but he caught it quickly with shaking hands. His heart was racing again- but he wouldn't let Hazel know. He was quick to straighten himself out and cleared his throat. An attempt at "acting natural", if you will. </p><p>"N-no. Why would you ask that?" He forced a laugh and quickly went about pouring the milk.</p><p>"You had a sad look that one time... Did she make you sad?" Hazel frowned before whispering, "Did you get her chicken so she'd stop making you sad?"</p><p>"G-Grace didn't make me sad-" Not really, anyhow... "I was just tired."</p><p>"Mr. Simon, its okay. This a "safe conversation", kay?" Her expression turned serious again, "Also, you're about to spill milk everywhere."</p><p>The man jerked and turned his attention to the mess he was about to make, "Why didn't you say something-!?"</p><p>"Cause you wouldn't learn from it if I did... Now spill the milk in your head, not in your hand!"</p><p>That- that almost sounded philosophical- and it would probably keep Simon up for the rest of the night if his intrusive thoughts didn't. Humming, he replaced the gallon in the fridge and brought Hazel her milk. Taking his sweet time in doing so to avoid the conversation a little longer. </p><p>"Fine- Grace is one of the good guys. She's been my friend for a while- kinda... She makes me happy... I love her." Simon sighed.</p><p>"I love her too, but sometimes people that make us happy can also make us sad." Hazel said, sipping her milk. "Ah. Whole milk. Thats how you know its the good stuff."</p><p>"Its 2%- but okay..." </p><p>"Don't change the subject, Mr. Simon. We gotta work out your problems." <em>This damn kid is too funny for her own good. </em></p><p>"I can work out my problems myself." He huffed.</p><p>"Can not. You gotta take medicine for your sad!" Well- she wasn't wrong. </p><p>"I can stop taking it whenever I want." Now that was a lie. </p><p>While he wouldn't say he had an addiction, he would still call his "habit"- difficult to break. Espeically with Grace and his near daily trips to the bar- one of few places they could go and hang out as friends instead of co-workers. He wasn't willing to give <em>that </em>up, and had always figured it was harmless so long as Grace were with him. It could be chalked up as a simple "outing" that just happened to involve drinking. Nothing that screamed addiction there.</p><p>"You promise?" Brown eyes turned hard as steel.</p><p>Blue eyes turned cold as eyes to match. "Would I ever lie to you?" </p><p>"I dunno. I don't know you all that well." Hazel admitted.</p><p>"So why are you asking about my personal life?" Finishing off the last of his beer, Simon chucked the empty can in the sink. He felt- better about things, but physically, he didn't feel any different from the one beer alone. </p><p>"Cause I wanna know about you. Its what friends do." Hazel followed his example and finished off her milk. She tried to pitch her empty into the sink- and ended up hitting him square in the face. "Are the bad people someone I know?"</p><p>That wasn't the part that bothered him. "I'm your teacher, Hazel... And no. You wouldn't know them." </p><p>"And I'm your teacher, Mr. Simon!" The girl raised her arms proudly above her head. Her smile was so bright, he almost let her have that. Almost...</p><p>"Wha- No. You're not." He frowned. </p><p>"Then Tuba is your teacher!" She smiled. </p><p>"Tuba isn't my teacher either!" Simon rose and went to collect the little girl, who by now was standing boldly on her chair with one foot on the table. Mrs. Cosay would have a field day if she walked in to see that. Simon just didn't have the energy to deal with that. </p><p>"Then Ms. Grace is your teacher! Cause you looooove her!" Or that. </p><p>"... Thats it. Time for bed!" </p><p>He scoooed the girl up and started back towards Nate's room. Their conversation only ate up less than a half hour, and part of him figured he could resume his night-time drinking as soon as Hazel went to sleep... But then another part of him told him it was time for bed. He was almost certain he wouldn't have any more unpleasant dreams tonight if he did.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. We'll Stay</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Everyone hates Mondays.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Grace's POV:</strong>
</p><p>The weekend had been glamorous. Her skin was still warm from the amount of sun she had soaked in while she was way. There was sand stuck in her hair and in her clothes, but she didn't mind it at all. If she closed her eyes, she could still feel the waves moving around her... When she opened them, however, she was quickly reminded that she was at work. That it was nap time... And that she was by herself for the day. </p><p>"Its not like Simon to just call off like this." She muttered, patting Lucy's back in an attempt to get the girl to fall asleep. "Not even a text to explain himself." </p><p>It was a Monday. The day Ms. Mall had her room cleaned out- including the kid's pillows and blankets. Which meant Grace had not only her own rugrats to deal with, but guests too. All without blanket, meaning she couldn't just tuck them in so tightly they couldn't get up. And with that stupid "on the cot puts you at half ratio", Ms. Amelia wasn't willing to send her in any help! A crappy end to an otherwise perfect vacation, it seemed. The only saving grace (ha!) being that most of the children were asleep already. If she hurried, she'd still have enough time to thumb through a magazine and check her phone while the kids were asleep. Just two more and-</p><p>"Scratch that. One down, one to go." Grace muttered, grimacing at little Lucy as the tot drooled onto her pillow. "Man. Luce is out like a light... That just leaves-" </p><p>Hazel. The one student Grace hadn't spent nap time with. This meant she had absolutely no gauge on how to get her to sleep- if she slept, that was. If her memory served her, Hazel was a tough nut. But that was only based on a conversation she overheard between Simon and the tot on Friday... Mustering up a bit more energy, Grace scooted over to the far end of the room where Hazel was currently seated. The little girl was sitting cross legged on her cot, just staring out the window. </p><p>"Hazel, its time to go to sleep-" Grace whispered, "You have to lay down-"</p><p>"I have insomnia." Hazel whispered back, "I think Mr. Simon has it too." </p><p>Now- that was a very odd thing for a 3 year old to say. Not just because it was a big word, but because as a student she shouldn't know what Simon's sleep cycle was like- which, Grace would like it add, is a freaking disaster. </p><p>"And how would you know that?" She asked. </p><p>"I stayed the night at his house. His brother is my bestest friend." </p><p>"His hou- Oh. You mean with this Cosays..." Grace frowned. Usually Simon was so against going to visit, even when it was her insisting. Now she goes out of town and he spends the weekend over there? Without telling her?</p><p>
  <em>None of your business, Grace... But what the heck!?</em>
</p><p>"He was up really really late. It was still dark out!" Hazel went on, waving her hands about for emphasis. "Which is funny because we had SO much fun and I thought he'd be tired like the rest of us!"</p><p>"Did he say why he was up?" They should be focused on getting Hazel to sleep right now- should be... But Grace was curious now.</p><p>She had texted him late Saturday and he never replied- she figured he had been sleeping. Was he avoiding her? Is that why he called off today? </p><p>"He said bad people made him sad and then he drank a 'bread soda' and I had milk." The little one scooted further back on her cot, and patted a spot next to her for Grace to sit down. </p><p>"Bad people? Why were you two talking about that-?" There had to be papers for her to fill out. Surely this violated some kind of 'Daycare law' she had forgotten about. Not that she wanted to get Simon in trouble. She was just sure that there was. It made this whole conversation super uncomfortable. </p><p>"Cause I asked." Hazel stated proudly, "I wanted to know, cause he was drinking a special drink for adults and I wanted to know why I couldn't have any. Cause I share my apple juice, and it looked like apple juice- but it smelt weird and he said it was medicine for grown-"</p><p>"Hazel- you have completely lost me." Grace huffed, "Start again. Just go slowly this time... Okay?"</p><p>"Okay- We were up super early cause Simon was sad. I saw him look at his phone and get really sad and then he had his drink, and I had milk, and  he wasn't sad anymore and so we went back to bed! The end." The girl gushed, and it would have been adorable if not for context. </p><p>"So- let me get this straight. Simon got a text message from a 'bad' person, and that warranted drinking late at night- enough to give a sob story to a 3 year old?" It physically pained her to frown. "Hazel, what day was this?" </p><p>"I like your big words!" She smiled, "And it was super early morning. But I don't think the next day comes until the sun is up so- Saturday!" </p><p>
  <em>That had to be my text then... What is he mad about? That I went on vacation? He seemed off on Friday but-</em>
</p><p>"Hazel, did he say anything else?"  Sure, it would have been easier to just put Hazel to bed now and read her magazine like nothing had been said- But she was invested now. Simon was her friend, after all. And since he wasn't here to explain himself right now, she would take what she could get. "Anything about me...?"</p><p>"Hmmm. Yes!" Hazel's smile fell quickly. "That you're his friend and he loves you, but that sometimes people who make you happy make you really sad..."</p><p>"W-what?" The woman felt her heart sink into her shoes.  </p><p>She and Simon had been friends for years- and while they had separate lives outside of each other, she had always assumed they were close. Maybe not as close as she thought, but at least close enough that they were beyond keeping secrets from each other. She would have understood if he just told her he wanted to visit family alone- or if he just told her how she had upset him. Instead, he told *Hazel* of all people? A daycare student they'd only known a couple of days... And what was worse- they both considered her 'bad' for things she didn't know she did... It made her wonder if all those trips to the bar were <em>because </em>of her. That there was was her friend's way of coping with her... It hurt. It hurt and somewhere in the midst of all that pain, it made her angry. Angry enough that she felt a very stern phone call was in order- or better yet-</p><p>"Or maybe I said that last bit... I can't remember." Hazel pouted, her little voice drawing Grace away from her thoughts. </p><p>"Hazel- try to get some sleep. I'm going to go talk to Mr. Simon when I go on my break." Her eyes narrowed, "Is he still at the Cosays?"</p><p>"If you mean, Nate's house- I don't think so. He went home on Sunday-" That was all she needed to know. </p><p>"Thank you for telling me, Hazel." She huffed, "Now try to sleep." </p><p>"Okay, Ms. Grace." Hazel flopped down on her face. "Say hi to Mr. Simon for me!"</p><p>Grace felt around her pocket for her keys. Her hands were shaking and her heart was pounding. In all the years she had known Simon, they never had a fight- at least, not a serious one. But then again, it was starting to seem as though she <em>hadn't </em>known Simon in that time- Or maybe she was over-reacting... Either way. They needed to talk about this. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. As We Are</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>She had been so mad before she got in the car.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Grace had been so mad at him when she got into her car. She had continued to be mad as she pulled out of the parking lot and sped off towards his apartment- the very one she had helped him set up nearly 5 years ago. Then her anger began to quell, and she felt guilt well up in it's place. Her thoughts on how to properly word her well thought out rant were gone. Replaced by fear and doubt. </p><p>"You know Simon, right? Come on, Grace. You're overreacting." She said to herself while pulling into a Wanda's drive-thru. "Just relax, okay?"</p><p>"Okay-? Can I take your order?" </p><p>Grace jumped, face flushing in embarrassment. Her window had been left down- had been for a while. It made her wonder just how many people had seen/heard her in that time- but that musing would have to wait. She and her best friend were possibly on the outs. They'd need chicken. They always had chicken during fights or even just during down periods. It was their cheap comfort food whenever they couldn't be at Jamie's. </p><p>"Just get me-" A pause. </p><p>Grace had never noticed before- but she didn't know Simon's usual- if he had one. Usually, he was the one who went out and bought food for them both. Never once did she ever pay attention to what he brought back unless it concerned her own order- which wasn't a huge thing, all things considered. Certainly not something worth feeling bad about. </p><p>"Just- two number 7s." She called back, "And a large Mountain Dew."</p><p>Simon liked Mountain Dew, that much she knew. He had no opinion to chicken nuggets, hence the number 7s, and he always thanked the person who took their order. Those weren't huge things either, but for some reason or another, they felt important to note when placing this order. </p><p>"Okay, ma'am. Your total is $7.47. Please pull forward."</p><p>"Okay, thank you!" </p><hr/><p>By the time she got to Simon's front door, he felt like an idiot. Her information had come from a 3 year old who didn't know anymore about Simon than she did. None of what she was told warranted such a strong reaction, nor did it warrant rushing over to bother Simon during break. He had a life outside of her, and vise versa. For crying out loud, she had left him up to his own devices for an entire weekened-</p><p>But she had a gut feeling that something was wrong and couldn't wait. As stupid as it made her feel now. Summoning an ounce of strength, she knocked on the door.</p><p>"Hold on-" Simon called, following by several locks unclocking. </p><p>He sounded- tired, and a little off. Perhaps just nursing a hangover or a cold like everyone of their rational co-workers assumed he had been doing. But as his familiar face became visible as the door pulled back, Grace knew that wasn't the case at all. </p><p>Simon's eyes were red and bloodshot, with a bit of gloss still left over them. He was dressed for the day, but he looked utterly miserable. He forced a smile, his pain shining through just enough that Grace was thanking her gut for sending her over in such a hurry. Simon looked to be in need of a friend. </p><p>She breathed sharply, trying to settle her still hammering heart. "Hey, buddy- Hows it going?" </p><p>"Grace, this is a bad time-" Simon muttered, glancing over his shoulder once. "Come back later."</p><p>She felt blood leak into her face, feeling absolutely dizzy from embarrassment now. Their friendship had always been casual- coming and going as they pleased unless requested by the other. Usually, it was Grace shutting Simon out of her personal life- but with the tables turned- It made her want to rethink their dynamic. Perhaps put a little more thought into it besides 'Co-worker best friend'. Why all of a sudden- she wasn't sure. </p><p>None of this had ever bothered her before- but she felt a foreboding. And she never wanted to mess with those. </p><p>"I figured that-" Grace sighed, holding up the bag of fast food. "I just felt like you needed this... Hazel said you had a rough night on Saturday."</p><p>Simon's eyes widened. "You brought me chicken...? Isn't it usually the other way around?"</p><p>"Well, originally I came over here to yell at you, but then I felt worried so-" </p><p>"Wait- to yell at me?" Simon frowned. "Why?"</p><p>"I was talking to Hazel and- I don't know, I misread a bunch of stuff and ran over here like an idiot." Grace huffed, her blush somehow darkening, as if that were possible.</p><p>Simon's frown deepened, and he glanced back over his shoulder. "What did she say?" He wasn't talking to her. Or maybe he was. She couldn't see what was beyond his shoulder. But whatever it was, it seemed to be setting him on edge.</p><p>"That you got a text message Saturday night... And you were up drinking because it made you sad and- I thought it was me you were upset with..." She frowned, "It sounds stupid when I say it."</p><p>"It does- you believed a 3 year old?" A faint smile fell over his face. "You could have just called me, you know?"</p><p>"And risk you not picking up again? Fat chance." This drew a chuckle from them both.</p><p>"Well, you got me there..." The man sighed. "Thanks for checking in on me... But seriously. I can't visit today."</p><p>"Are you sick? I don't mind catching colds from you Simon." And really, she didn't.</p><p>"I'm not sick. Its just a mental health day..." He frowned again. That wasn't the only thing wrong. </p><p>"Is that all?"</p><p>Simon sighed loudly in response and pulled the door closed. She could hear the rattle of the doorchain being slid out of place, and Simon emerged seconds later. Before she had time to think, he had her wrapped up in a tight hug. The kind of hug they usually saved for big occasions. A brief one, but long enough to put her mind at some ease.</p><p>"Thanks for checking on me... But you really have to leave- I'll talk to you about it later." His voice had dropped to a whisper, and he pushed the fastfood bag against her side. "Take this with you and just stop by after work-"</p><p>Now that worried her. Simon was never one for urgency or for secrets. Even if it involved potential girlfriends or job interviews. He never kept secrets from Grace- at least, not full secrets. There was always some quick explanation given if he couldn't tell her right away. Never was she left completely in the dark. Pushing her quickly out the door was new and completely unlike him. </p><p>"Simon, what is-" </p><p>"Grace, just go!" Simon yelped, only to quickly drop his voice again. "Please? I promise, I'll explain later." </p><p>"Is everything okay?" She whispered back, "If you're in trouble, you can tell me."</p><p>"I know-" He sighed, giving her another quick hug. "Just- come over later... Okay? I'll tell you everything from Sunday onward-"</p><p>"... Okay."</p><p>The blonde shot her a thankful smile, before hurriedly disappearing back into his apartment. The locks all clicked back into place. With her break almost over, and Simon not up for a visit, she knew this was her que to leave and yet- she stood outside a moment longer. Worried. </p><p>It took her back to a time so long ago-</p><hr/><p>
  <strong>13 years earlier:</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>"Simon. You can't keep waiting around for her."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It had been raining that day. Grace's small pink umbrella did very little in keeping the pair dry. The air around them was frigid, plastering their costumes from the night before to their freezing skin. They were both miserable, but Simon still refused to budge, and Grace loyally stayed at his skin. What little body heat they passed each other through there arms provided some comfort. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>They were waiting on Simon's front porch. The door to the house had been locked up tightly, and only Simon's mother had the key inside. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"S-she'll be back." Simon shivered, eyes deep red from tears he was desperately trying to hold back. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Simon- We've been out here all morning... You said you mom never came home yesterday-" She stopped to sneeze, the force of it shaking her little body. "Simon, I don't think shes-"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Grace lifted her frozen, clean hand and placed it on his shoulder. He was shaking from the chill in the air and she was sure they would have matching colds by tomorrow. Simon tensed up under her hand.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"She's coming back, Grace- you don't know my mom!" Simon exclaimed, suddenly shoving Grace away with enough force to send the girl flat on her bottom. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The shock of the water from the puddle she had fallen in hurt. Her princess costume was soiled and wet, and she was cold and in pain, and her friend was upset and she didn't know how to handle any of it. She wanted to be mad at him for pushing her- but her gut told her not to be. Tears welled up in her own eyes, and her face felt hot with embarrassment. Unlike Simon, she didn't try to hide them.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Grace! I'm so sorry- I-I just-" The boy stopped, looking back over his shoulder with a look of frustration and desperation in his eyes. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>A crack of lighting flashed over head, and in that split second- they had both begun to cry. The rain like razors down their faces, mixing with their tears. Simon knelt pathetically in front of Grace and wrapped his arms around her tightly, sobbing loudly into her shoulder. She didn't care that he was hugging her too tightly, or that he was rubbing his face into her dress. She didn't know how else to help him. Like Simon, she was just a helpless child-</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Grace. Its time to leave." Her father had called to her from the car. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"W-what about Simon?" She sniffled, "H-his mom still isn't back."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She felt her father's firm hand on her shoulder, gently prying her from her friend and lifting her from the puddle. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Don't worry... I've made a few calls." His face and voice were grave, and he pressed a hand against Simon's head. Flattening the boy's messy hair and hopefully providing him with some warmth. "We will talk about this later..."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"What going to happen to me...?" Simon's voice was barely above a whisper, shaking just as the rest of him was.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Don't worry, son... You're going to be okay." Her father muttered. "Everything is taken care of..."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Grace watched as her friend turned and looked over his shoulder, one last time... His face was so red, so full of confusion and pain, and saddness and anger... But above all- he looked afraid. She never wanted to see him look so afraid ever again. </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Even If We Owe The Grocer</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Another Grace and Hazel-centric chapter.</p><p>*Extended chapter</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>PLEEEEEASE READ!!!</p><p>So as you might have noticed, we are now on chapter 12/20. What does this mean? Well, nothing really. I considered if I should extend this story or do a sequel (and some prequels) for this AU!</p><p> As always, I want to hear from you guys. Would you want a longer story? Do you want to see how chapter 20 pans out before making a choice? Leave a comment below!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Simon hadn't been home after work. </p><p>He hadn't been home or work on Tuesday either. To say Grace was concerned would be an understatement. Even the kids in their classroom were growing concerned about their missing teacher. They would take turns keeping watch at the door. </p><p>"Is Mr. Simon going to be in today?" Little Mandy asked, tugging on Grace's pant leg with apple juice stained fingers. </p><p>It was 9:30, Wensday morning. Grace was holding off her panic until Thursday. If Simon wasn't back in time for their weekly regimen, she would know he was dead. And if he was still alive and dared to show his face again, she'd kill him herself. Two days of wrangling the kids on her own was enough for one lifetime.</p><p>"Ms. Amelia said he didn't call off, so I think so-" </p><p>The door flew open. The kids (and Grace) looked up expectantly. Ms. Amelia was the one who stepped in. Her face was as grim as always and it scared the children enough that they all ran off to hide behind the bookcase. Everyone except Hazel, of course. That little one was too brave for her own good.</p><p>And insane enough to march straight up to the older woman.</p><p>"Ms. Amelia? Have you seen Mr. Simon?" Hazel asked, waving her stuffed monkey around. "Tuba says she misses him."</p><p>"I haven't seen him, and it's none of my buisness what he gets up to outside of work." Amelia scoffed, walking straight passed the child.</p><p>She then added, "And even if I did know, it would be a violation to tell you what my employee is up to."</p><p>"A violation of what?" The little girl asked, batting her eyes innocently. "Mr. Simon says that theres "Daycare Law". Is that true?"</p><p>"... Yes. Now if you don't mind-" </p><p>The older woman walked straight over to a nearby cabinet. But not just any cabinet- the Teacher's Cabinet. A sacred cabinet with a lock and key that only people tall enough to reach it (adults) could enter. A special place where they could safely hide their stuff and stolen extra snacks in, away from the kids view. </p><p>Amelia produced her own key from her pocket and opened the doors. The kids, having finally overcome their fear, gathered around her hurriedly. Hoping to catch a glimpse of whatever was in the 'forbidden cabinet'. </p><p>"Can I help you find something?" Grace called over. "All thats in there is my purse." </p><p>"Mr. Simon's jacket." Amelia replied, voice firm. </p><p>Hazel gasped, "So you DO know where Mr. Simon is!" </p><p>Grace frowned deeply and quickly scooped Hazel up into her arms. There was no way she was going to get in trouble for having respectful kids. "Guys, leave Ms. Amelia alone. Come on- lets go do story time or something."</p><p>"But Mr. Simon always does story time!" Todd, the youngest of the room, whined, "You never do the voices right!" </p><p>"Well, you guys can teach Ms. Grace how Mr. Simon does it-" </p><p>An angry flurry of "Nos!" Answered her. Followed by overlapping "Mr. Simon says-", usually ending with a procedure he made up for the room to keep the kids busy. At first it was cute, but now the kids' discomfort with the <em>slight</em> change in their daily schedule was beginning to weigh on Grace's nerves... And clearly on Ms. Amelia's.</p><p>"I'd be less than happy to stay if you needed help, Ms. Grace." The older woman puffed, moving on to yet another cabinet. </p><p>"No- they're just worried." Grace muttered, finally able to corral the kids onto the circle rug. "Lets learn a new game today- since you all miss Simon so much. Okay?" </p><p>The kids all exchanged curious glances with each other. They liked their teachers and bothering others- but they also liked games. If she played her cards right, she could keep them busy until snack time- or at least until she was out from under the watchful eye of Ms. Amelia. </p><p>"We're going to play a game called 'Simon Says'-" </p><p>A collective grunt left the clearly confused children. They certainly didn't seem interested in the game just yet. Not until Hazel's hand shot up. "I know that game! I played before!"</p><p>"Great! You can help teach it to our friends, okay?" </p><p>Hazel beemed up at Grace, and then proudly ran to the woman's side. The little girl was practically buzzing with excitement- but that could be a good thing or a bad thing. If she didn't absolutely sell the game as an adequate replacement for the real Mr. Simon- there could be a toddler riot on their hands. </p><p>But when Hazel cleared her throat and stood on her tiptoes, Grace knew she'd be alright. "When you place 'Simon Says', you gotta do whatever Ms. Grace says- even though she isn't Mr. Simon. And if she doesn't say 'Simon Says' before, you can't do it! If you do, you die!" </p><p>... Nailed it, Hazel. Now everyone else looked confused and horrified- including Ms. Grace! "What she means is- if I say 'Simon Says' before an action, you do it." </p><p>"But you're Ms. Grace!" Lucy called. </p><p>This was what her mother would call a 'Fake it till you Make it' moment. Time to rewrite some age-old rules..."Right- so if I say 'Ms. Grace says' you don't do what I say, okay? If you do, then you're out of the game. Understand?" </p><p>The kids muttered amongst themselves for a moment before nodding their heads. They knew the rules and seemed eager to get started. It was a relief-</p><p>"You know that by teaching them this, they will be less likely to listen to you in the future." Ms. Amelia said, turning finally to leave the room. </p><p>
  <em>"... Crap."</em>
</p><p>Say 'Oh Well', but until they got their own Simon back-</p><p>"... Lets get started. "Simon Says: Say bye to Ms. Amelia!" </p><hr/><p>The game had been successful. The kids got the hang of it and played until they lost interest when snack arrived. They were all eating quietly now, even if snack today was pears and syrup. Grace wrinkled up her nose. Normally, she'd steal an extra snack or two- but today she was fine with just watching. </p><p>Anything to get her mind off of-</p><p>"I couldn't find it, Simon." Amelia's voice sounded from down the hall. "Are you sure you left it here?" </p><p>Grace moved closer to the door and pressed her ear to it. Luckily, the Apex Room was close enough to the main off that she could hear them clearly just with that. </p><p>"Last I saw it was in one of the classrooms. Honest." That was definitely Simon. </p><p>"Well, I don't have time to check every room and I can't have you waltzing about the place off the clock." Amelia huffed. "What do you want me to do about it? I am a very busy person. Why don't you have Grace search for it?"</p><p>"... It's fine. Thanks for looking."</p><p>Footsteps retreated from the office, and the heavy wooden door leading to the exit swung open and it shut loudly. Loud enough that even the children looked up from their snacks in curiosity.</p><p>"Just finish your snacks. It was only the door." Grace sighed, moving over to a private place where she could check her phone. </p><p>
  <strong>Grace: Hey. Where were you today?</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Read: 11:47PM</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Grace: Helllllllllllo? </strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Read: 4:15AM</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Grace: Are you coming in today? </strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Read: 7:00AM</em>
</p><p>She frowned. There didn't seem to be any point in texting him about his missing hoodie if he was just going to leave her on read. Even less of a point in doing it now during work. It would only work her up more- </p><p>
  <em> <strong>*Bing!*</strong> </em>
</p><p>"I thought I silenced this thing-" </p><p>
  <strong>Simon: Open your window. </strong>
</p><p>Her heart lept. Speak of the Devil- and when she glanced up, there was the Devil himself. Casually leaning on the window pane. It was one of few times Grace had ever been grateful for the location of the Apex Room in their building. Close enough to the front to eavesdrop, and with the only window that wasn't guarded by a fenced in playground. And it seemed she wasn't the only grateful one.</p><p>"Mr. Simon!" Hazel squeaked, rushing over to the window. "Look, Ms. Grace!"</p><p>The others followed in suit- some even tried to climb the toy shelves to get a closer look. It did Mr. Simon's soul a service, she could tell. So with a shake of her head (and a note to clean the kids fingerprints off the wall later) Grace joined them and opened the window. </p><p>"Mr. Simon! We thought you were dead!" "Where did you go!?" "We learned a new game!" "Are you dead?" "Ms. Grace said we have to listen to you for our game!" </p><p>The overlapping chatter died down quickly, turning into silent curiosity. The kids had never seen Mr. Simon outside of his school uniform, or with his hair down and glasses on. They were probably beginning to doubt that this was their teacher. If it didn't violate FERPA (or whatever that law was called. HIPPA?) Grace would have taken a picture.</p><p>"Hello, Mr. Simon." She teased, "What brings you here?"</p><p>"Just checking in-" His tone was off- "And to grab my things-"</p><p>"Your things? You make it sound like you're leaving for good." Her heart stilled for a moment. "Are you?"</p><p>"No! Not for good. Just- something came up, so I'm taking an extended leave of absence." Simon shrugged. </p><p>She nodded and then shooed the kids back to their snack tables. They must have sensed something was amiss, as they all sat down without fuss and resumed eating. Occasionally, one or two kids would look up, but not enough to concern Grace. She turned back to the window.</p><p>"So when were you going to tell me this?" If she was unhappy, she certainly didn't let it show. </p><p>"I wanted to tell you about it in person-" </p><p>"I went over to your house yesterday and you weren't home." Her frown deepened. </p><p>"Yesterday- I'm sorry, I forgot-" </p><p>"You also left me on read, Simon." Her tone lowered, so only Simon could hear her. "If you're in trouble, I want to help. Okay? You're my friend, in case you forgot."</p><p>"I know, and I appreciate it, but- its a lot and I don't want to drag you into it." He sighed, rubbing his eyes under his glasses. </p><p>Grace puffed up her chest a little. If there was one thing she hated, it was being left out of things. Ever since she was a child, it had been her biggest pet peeve. </p><p>"Hey. Enough of that. I've been here since the beginning. There's nothing you could say that would make me leave now-" </p><p>Simon's expression turned cold, eyes narrowed. He leaned in closer to the window and his voice lowered. "It's about my mom- she's been trying to contact me and on Sunday-" </p><p>The Apex Room door flew open, and Grace shut the window quickly. Ms. Amelia was standing in the doorway now, an eyebrow raised. Luckily- Simon had slipped away from the window unnoticed. </p><p>"What are you doing?" Ms. Amelia's tone was calm. </p><p>"J-just thought the kids could use some air. Its nice out." Grace lied, leaning against the wall. "Why?" </p><p>"Just checking." The woman's eyes narrowed into slits, and she glanced about the room before turning to leave. Grace was ready to breathe a sigh of relief until-</p><p>"Simon says he's going away." Little Lucy said innocently. </p><p>Ms. Amelia turned around quickly, turning an accusing eye to Grace. She opened her mouth to speak, possibly to berate Grace for having unauthorized visitors during work time hours- When little Hazel stood up.</p><p>"Lucy, the game is all done now! Its snack time." The girl said, calmly walking over to her friend. "We can play Simon Says when we're all done."</p><p>The other girl seemed to catch on quickly. "Oh- okay, Hazel." </p><p>"Thats very kind of you, Hazel." Grace breathed. </p><p>Hazel nodded, shooting Grace a quick wink before giving Lucy a hug and going back to her own seat. A sign of child-comradery in the eyes of anyone who wasn't Grace, who knew Hazel had done it for not just Ms. Grace, but for Mr. Simon as well. The look on her sweet face read 'You can thank me later.' </p><p>Grace finally turned her attention back to Ms. Amelia. "I'm sorry, Hazel interrupted you."</p><p>"No- it is alright... I'll be going now." The old woman sighed, turning sharply to leave. "Oh, and remember to mind yourself, Ms. Grace. I warned you about that game."</p><p>"Yes, Ma'am." Grace smiled innocently. </p><p>When her boss disappeared from view, it felt like a heavy weight had been lifted from her shoulders- but it came back when she remembered Simon. </p><hr/><p>The rest of the kids had filed out for the day. Lucy was the second to last one to leave. She gave Hazel a firm squeeze before she left, a token of an adorable baby friendship that Grace prayed never brought the same level of anxiety that her's and Simon's had. When Lucy left, Hazel didn't seem sad at all. That was a good sign that the little girl would be okay. </p><p>"Ms. Grace?" Oh- maybe she was sadder than she looked. Her voice screamed depressed. </p><p>"What is it, Hazel?" Grace asked, hand inching towards a box of tissues on the shelf. "Lucy will be back in the morning-"</p><p>"But Mr. Simon won't." So thats what she was upset about... She and Grace must have been on the same wavelength. </p><p>"He- has some stuff going on." Hazel waved her hand. </p><p>"That isn't it." This was a trap.</p><p>Hazel had unknowingly lead Grace astray before, and while it did work out in the end, she was now weary to hear the little girl out. Even if she did know something from the weekend, there was no way she knew/remembered anything about this- right? There was also no way of knowing if Grace had interpreted the information correctly. </p><p>"I think it's about me- Mr. Simon said he could get in trouble with Daycare Law, but Ms. Whittney said it was okay-" Hazel's eyes were big and glossy. "I lied to Ms. Amelia because I didn't want you to go away too- I'm sorry, Ms. Grace..."</p><p>A fond yet sad came over Grace without her realizing it. She dropped down to Hazel's level and pulled the girl into a tight hug. </p><p>"Hazel- Its okay. This has nothing to do with you." She tried to sound reassuring. </p><p>"B-but what if we don't ever see Mr. Simon again?" Hazel squeaked, fiddling with the bottom hem of her sweater. "I don't know a lot of people- I don't like when people go away and never come back-"</p><p>Grace's heart broke. "N-no. No, honey. Trust me- I've known Mr. Simon for years... He's gone away before- once for a *very* long time, but he always finds me again and we pick up like he was never gone... He'll be back."</p><p>"Do you promise?" Hazel whispered, pulling her ponytail in front of her face like a security blanket.</p><p>"Yes. I told you- Mr. Simon is my friend. He wouldn't leave me forever." </p><p>Despite the confidence in her voice, Grace was anything but. She wanted to say with absolutely certainty that he would be back- but now she wasn't sure. At least, she wasn't a full 100% sure. Maybe 98%, and that 2% bothered her worse than it did in milk. </p><p>"How long has he been your friend for?" Hazel was seated on the floor- eyes wide as though she were waiting for a story. </p><p>It was only 3:00pm. They had time to talk. "13 years." </p><p>"Oh wow! Is that more than 3?" </p><p>Grace giggled. "Yes, Hazel. More than 3."</p><p>"That's older than me! You must be really really good friends!" </p><p>"We are..." <em>Aren't we?</em></p><p>Hazel's look of awe faded quickly. Like the light within her had been covered. Her serious expression had returned. "But... Then why did he go away before? Friends shouldn't leave each other." </p><p>The older girl gulped. The last thing she wanted to do was lie to not just Hazel, but herself. It felt better when she talked things out honestly at any rate. There was no point lying anyhow. Hazel would pick apart her story instantly... She was a smart girl. "Mr. Simon had to go live in another house once-" </p><p>"He moved?" Hazel frowned. </p><p>"Sorta..." Grace sat down and pulled Hazel into her lap. "When Mr. Simon and I were little- his mommy left him and so he couldn't stay in his house anymore-"</p><p>"Oh..." Hazel's expression was unreadable. She casted her gaze down to the floor. "Did- did she ever come back...?"</p><p>The world stopped. "I don't think so-" </p><p>"Was Mr. Simon sad when his mom left?" Why wouldn't it turn?</p><p>Grace was stuck now. Hazel was a lead weight on her lap and in her heart. They were both sad, but for different reasons. Reasons the two hadn't even shared outloud yet. Yet here they were, suffering together. Just as she and Simon had on his front porch all those years ago. Back when time stood until their fingers froze and they were whisked away by her father... And to think, they had been so happy the night before. So blissfully unaware that his mom was never coming back-</p><p>"... No." That was a fact. </p><p>When his mom left, Simon was safe. Wherever she went that night wasn't important. Simon was with Grace. Grace was absolutely certain he was warm, fed, and happy with her when his mother decided she didn't want a son anymore. </p><p>"Mr. Simon wasn't sad... He was at my house and we had cupcakes and watched movies and had a lot of fun." She smiled fondly at the memory. "There was a big Halloween party at my house, and the whole class was invited."</p><p>"Really?" Hazel's eyes were back to their happy, sparkling selves. </p><p>"Yes. And you want to know a secret?" Grace dropped her voice to a whisper and leaned in close. "Its so secret. Not even Mr. Simon knows it."</p><p>"Mhm!" Hazel leaned in just as close. "What is it Ms. Grace?"</p><p>"No one else came to my party that night... Just Mr. Simon." Grace's smile grew and she drew Hazel into a tight hug. "The world sent me my best friend and he was all mine." </p><p>Hazel giggled and hugged back just as tight. Grace could feel the child's heartbeat was racing just as fast as her's. "I like that story, Ms. Grace."</p><p>"I know... I like it too." Grace looked up at the clock. 3:35pm. The world was moving again, and so was she. </p><p>She didn't know where Simon's mom had been when she left, or while she was gone. Heck, she didn't even know where that woman was when she came back. But she knew where to find Simon. And there was no force on Earth that would stop her from being with him during the highs and lows during this time. Even if they couldn't be together at work everyday until he got back. </p><p>
  <em>'It's what best friends do.' </em>
</p><p>The door swung open suddenly and Ms. Amelia stepped in. Her expression was bitter, but that wasn't anything new. The bit of concern behind her eyes was. Grace jumped to her feet when she saw it, Hazel still tucked in her arms. </p><p>"I just got off the phone with Mrs. Cossay." Amelia started, "I hate to ask you this, as it is a violation, but I will make an exception- Will you be able to drive her son and Hazel home?"</p><p>"Nate and Ha-" It was meant as a question, but Amelia cut her off. </p><p>"I am only allowing this once. We are closing early and they are the only two left." Her expression harded. "Are you able to or not?"</p><p>Grace had a gut feeling that everything was okay. Even though most would suspect that something was amiss- the world hadn't stopped yet. It was moving, and if she knew how it worked- she'd be willing to bet that it was sending her for a reason. Just as it had sent Simon to her. </p><p>"Yeah- I can drive them." </p><p>"Good- now, please don't mention this to the other parents." Somehow Amelia's expression hardened even more. "We're one phone call away from having State sent in. Understood?"</p><p>"Yes, ma'am-" Grace was already flying for her purse and keys. Her heart was hammering in her ears- from excitement or anxiety, she couldn't tell. The thumping was so loud she almost didn't hear Hazel.</p><p>"Wait! I forgot something in Ms. Mall's room!" The little one called, racing into the hall. </p><p>"Well, hurry and grab it! I have to lock these doors door!" Amelia called after her- for one not bothering to berate Grace for letting an unsupervised child into the hall. </p><p>They were gone for a second before Hazel ran back in- proudly holding one formally missing white hoodie. They'd have to see Simon now if he wanted it back. Even better. </p><p>"Good job, Hazel! Now lets go get Nate!" Grace smiled and lifted the girl up and tucked her under her arm. </p><p>She was on a mission now, and with two munchkins aiding her, felt more confident than ever.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Don't We Have Fun (3)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Simon is back with answers.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Simon's POV</strong>
</p><p>Doing laundry had always been a comfort to Simon. The fresh smell of soap and the warmth of dry clothes was as good as a hug from a loved one- not that he ever had many of those. Aside from Mrs. Cosay, who always smelt like her detergent. It was her smell, and it always brought him fond memories of doing laundry with her as a child. Back when there was still a sense of satisfaction in watching a garmet go in stained and coming out clean and new... </p><p>"Huh. I wonder if that works on humans..." He muttered. "I guess that would just be a shower, huh?" </p><p>"Guess so, Si." </p><p>Simon jumped. He hadn't been expecting an auidence- and definitely not *this* auidence. Grace, Hazel, and Nate were all crowded in the doorway leading to the laundry room. Grace with a bemused (yet relieved) smirk and Hazel and Nate fighting each other to enter the room first. Hazel won and flung herself straight into Simon's stomach. Nate puffed up his chest and ran after her- also gutting Simon with the top of his head. </p><p>It hurt a lot, but Simon didn't let the pain show all that much. Just a single tear that hopefully no one saw. </p><p>"Simon! Lookie! Grace drove us here!" Hazel giggled. "I came here just to see you again!"</p><p>"Oh really? Whittney said your ride was running late too." Simon huffed, lifting the kiddos into his arms for a quick hug. "I'm just finishing up in here. Why don't you two go see if dinner is ready yet?"</p><p>Hazel pushed back and saluted him quickly, then grabbed Nate by the collar and rushed him off. Simon caught the tail end of Nate's request to stay and help- which Hazel seemed to ignore. That left just him and Grace. </p><p>The woman sauntered over to him and tossed something at his face- his hoodie!</p><p>"You found it!" Yeah, that was going in the wash. Whatever that sticky stuff was on it didn't bother him, but it smelt like the daycare. Despite his relief to have his hoodie back- he promptly chucked it into a nearby basket. </p><p>"Actually, Hazel did." Grace hummed as she moved passed him and hopped onto the front loading washer. "I didn't realize it was so important to you."</p><p>That was a fantastic lie. That hoodie had been a gift from her when they were kids and she knew it. A parting gift before he was placed in his first foster home. Aside from a few things, he considered it to be a prized possession of sorts. </p><p>"It was a gift if you must know. I plan to keep it until its worn to nothing." </p><p>"And what if it gets too small for you to wear?"</p><p>A pause, "I'll turn it into a Christening gown for my child- or a viel for my wife ar our wedding." </p><p>"You? Married with a child?" Grace scoffed. "You know you'd have to actually date someone longer than an hour to do all that right?"</p><p>"Or get really wasted in Vegas." Simon smirked. After the week he had (and it was only Wensday) it was nice to have such a relaxed conversation. "Or skip the marriage and just be irresponsible-"</p><p>"Speaking of which-" Nevermind. </p><p>The calm and relaxed atmosphere of the laundry room vanished instantly. Chased from the room by Grace's stern expression. Eyes narrowed and lips pressed tightly. She was waiting for an answer and Simon would be lying if he said he didn't see this conversation coming. </p><p>With shaky hands, he resummed doing the laundry. As he switched loads, he could feel Grace's gaze as he burned into his back. </p><p>"My mom has been trying to contact me since last week." He began. </p><p>"Thats all?" He could hear her frown. "Simon, you could have told me that-"</p><p>"Thats not all." Laundry was sorted by colour- even though it was all going into the dryer. He needed to keep his hands busy and his eyes on anything that wasn't Grace. </p><p>"Then talk." That worried tone broke his heart. "You're leaving work because of whatever this is and I want to know why." </p><p>"... On Sunday, I decided to go and meet with my mom. We were going to go to lunch and talk." His hands shook a little harder now- a sock slipped between his fingers. "Hazel and I had a nice conversation and my therapist got on me about making connections with people-"</p><p>"Your therapist?" Confusion. Some hurt was mixed in there. "Since when did you go to therapy?" </p><p>"Oh, some time now..." A shrug, "I've- had an intrusive thought here or there and wanted to talk to someone about it." </p><p>"Okay- so what happened when you saw your mom?" </p><p>Simon set his jaw firmly. Hard enough that his teeth ached from the pressure. His eyes blurred and lost focus for a minute or two- but he continued to fold still wet socks before he chucked them into the dryer. His heart beat a mile a minute and he wished he hadn't promised to fill Grace in on things. </p><p>But he had to.</p><p>"I-I didn't." Simon admitted. "We were supposed to meet at the old house and-"</p><p>"She didn't show up?" Grace finished. </p><p>"No..." The next ball of socks was thrown in hard. "She didn't..."</p><p>"I'm sorry to hear that, Simon." That didn't mean much. "She's a bitc-"</p><p>He wanted to throw something- to hit something or yell or something. Grace wasn't sorry- she left him for the weekend. Left to go spend time with *her* mom. While he was stuck with a mother who wasn't his and one who didn't want to see him. His mom wasn't just a bitch- she was a devil who had ruined his life without having to be near him. </p><p>
  <em>'I never lie when I'm telling the truth.' </em>
</p><p>The last thing she had told him in person- right before he learned that she *never* told the truth... And that her voice would never leave his head. She was a permanent part of his life even 13 years later. Always nagging him whenever he'd get too comfortable- too close to someone else. Grace would never be able to understand that torture. </p><p>"You don't get it Grace-" He scoffed. "I just thought- maybe I'd finally have my back this time-" </p><p>"Simon, I was there when she left- I know how hurt you were then." Grace hopped off of the washer and kneeled at his side. "We don't have to talk about this if you don't want to."</p><p>"No- its okay..." It wasn't. "She never showed up and- I sat out on the porch for a while... It got dark and I went back to my apartment and-" </p><p>His voice trailed off. He hardly remembered what happened that night. The ride him had left him bitter. Too angry to stay with the Cosays and without Grace- the rest of the night was a blurr of pain, tears, and alcohol as far as he was concerned. Anything to force his mom's voice out of his head for a peice- but it only seemed to get louder. Distorted. He couldn't remember what was his mother's and what was his own inner-voice.</p><p>
  <em>I never lie when I'm telling the truth.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She doesn't belong to you. Let her go.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You have better things to do.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You're intruding. They don't want you around. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>You have no one. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I never wanted you.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You're alone...</em>
</p><p>"And what?" Grace's smooth tone chased the noise away. It always had. </p><p>"... Something stupid... Mrs. Cosay came to stay with me and Monday after I called off." The last of the laundry was tossed in without him looking. "She told me to come stay with her family until this passes... I said yes- my had wasn't in the right place at the time...We were packing when you came over."</p><p>"Something stupid- Oh, Simon..." A warm hand placed itself firmly onto Simon's shoulder. "Why didn't you just tell me? I would have helped-"</p><p>"Theres some things you don't tell your co-workers." He shrugged her hand away.</p><p>"I'm your friend Simon-" The dryer door slammed. They both jumped.</p><p>"That wasn't what you said before you left." His tone was colder than intended. </p><p>Grace frowned in response. "When I was on the phone? Simon, my friends don't know you that well- I didn't mean anything by that."</p><p>
  <em>She means everything by it."</em>
</p><p>"I know- it just came at a bad time." The dial was set. An hour on high. </p><p>"And how was I supposed to know that!? Simon, you didn't tell me anything was wrong." The woman puffed up her chest and folded her arms. "And then when I hunted you down, you just disappeared! Left work and everything. It's not my fault-"</p><p>"You don't get it, Grace!" It felt good to raise his voice to someone. "You've always had your mom- you don't know what rejection feels like until it comes from someone who is supposed to love you- I didn't want to tell you anything was wrong until it was over with."</p><p>He punched the Start button on the dryer. The wheel churned loudly as it began to spin the laundry about. As a child, he would sit on top of the dryer and just wait- as an adult however, he just wanted to hour to be gone. To fast forward over this conversation- this month- and come back when things were warm and clean again.</p><p>"And yet you told, Hazel?" Grace stepped forward, catching Simon's wrist.</p><p>"She asked." He sighed. </p><p>"So did I." She said, cupping Simon's face in both of her hands- forcing him to look at her. "People were worried about you, Simon."</p><p>"You came over to yell at me." He pointed out. </p><p>"I didn't understand-" Didn't he just say that already? "You know what I mean- I didn't know you were hurting so much."</p><p>It stung a little. Having it confirmed that no one noticed his pain until it effected them. The knowledge that his pain would never effect his mother. That if he had just come back to work that no one would have been any wiser to it. Grace wouldn't have bothered to ask unless prompted-</p><p>
  <em>No one cares about your struggles, Simon. Everyone has issues. Not just you.</em>
</p><p>"Of course not-" He muttered. "It's not important."</p><p>"It is important." A thumb brushed over his cheek gently. "And I may not understand what you're going through, but I made a promise on the way over here to stick with you until you feel better. The Apex room needs their Mr. Simon back."</p><p>Simon blinked, vision blurring again. He tried to study Grace's face through the gloss in his eyes. Her beautiful, warm face. The same one that had saved him all those years ago. That same smile that had soften the blow of his mother's departure. It made him feel warm- as though she were somehow sharing some of the light that always seemed to shine within her. </p><p>"Thank you, Grace..." A faint smile graced his face.</p><p>"Anytime, best friend." Grace teased, pressing her forehead to his playfully.</p><p>The ache in his heart dulled. For a split second, it was just Simon and Grace against the world, as it was meant to he. As it had been ever since that Halloween party.</p><p>
  <strong>BEEEEEEP! </strong>
</p><p>"What is that-?" Grace stepped back. </p><p>"The dryer-" Simon turned. A red light was flashing. Something was jammed. </p><p>With a frown, he opened the little door. A puff of smoke came after. The smell of burning plastic came next. He saw fluff- lots of fluff and purple fabric.</p><p>"Is that-"</p><p>"... Tuba..."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Tax Collector's</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Simon breaks the news about Tuba and finds out something startling about Hazel.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There were many things Simon dreaded. Rent being due, being called into his boss' office, and having to be honest about his emotions were all on that list- and now he was about to add another thing. </p><p>Confessing to stuffed animal murder. </p><p>Or rather- having Grace confess on his behalf while he hid in the laundry room with the body... </p><p>"Hazel- there was an accident-" Grace's voice echoed down the hall like a ghost. </p><p>"Tuba says accidents are just the sprinkles that make life interesting!" Hazel's giggle was like a knife in Simon's chest, slowly twisting itself in deeper. </p><p>"Yeah- speaking of Tuba..." </p><p>Simon covered his ears- and while it blocked out Grace's voice- it did nothing to block out Hazel's scream. Her little feet came pounding into the laundry room. If the dryer were empty, the man would have crawled inside and stayed there until she left. The last thing he wanted was guilt on top of grief. </p><p>"Simon!" And yet it was the first thing he felt when he turned and saw Hazel's chubby, tear streaked face. "You killed Tuba!" </p><p>It certainly seemed that way. Tuba's fluffy innards were in one hand and her shredded corpse was in the other. </p><p>"Hazel-" What did he plan to say? </p><p>"You killed Tuba!" Hazel shrieked. </p><p>Before Simon could react, he had a very angry kiddo charge at him- her little fists were flying at his legs and hips. Tears were streaking down her face and her cheeks had gone perfectly red. </p><p>"Hazel- it was an accident." Simon sighed, attempting to kneel down to be at her level. All that got him was a harsh punch to the jaw. </p><p>"YOU KILLED TUBAAAAA!" </p><p>The shrieking was enough to draw the attention of everyone in the house. Jesse poked his head into the room first- then Nate and Grace. They all stood in the doorway- blocking the only exit. Simon felt his face growing hot in embarrassment. There was nothing in the world that could make this any harder than it already was- </p><p>And then <em>She </em>walked in. </p><p>"What on Earth is going on in here!?" Whittney Cossay. </p><p>The woman's arms were folded under her chest and her face was scrunched up like a wad of paper. Simon was familiar with this look from his adolescent years. It was the look of "You have better have a good explanation for all this mess". He never did have a good explanation- but luckily he didn't have to answer this time. Hazel ratted him out for him.</p><p>"S-Simon killed Tuba!" The child sniffled- grabbing the stuffed animal's remains and holding them up for all to see. "I hate him!" </p><p>"It was an accident-" He groaned, standing up quickly to avoid another baby-sized fist from clocking him anywhere important. </p><p>"Was not!" Hazel sniffled loudly. </p><p>"Hazel, I'm sure it was just an accident." Whittney sighed, casting Simon a tired glance. "Tuba just got mixed up in the lau-" </p><p>"I HATE HIM!" Hazel cut in, holding the animal close to her chest. </p><p>Whittney's expression softened. "Hazel, you had so much fun with him last weekend- maybe he'll help you fix Tuba-" </p><p>Talking about him like he wasn't in the room- another thing he dreaded more than anything. It made him feel like less of a being. Simon had had enough of that between houses as a child...</p><p>"Haze-"</p><p>"I don't want his help!" Hazel sniffled, glaring up at him. "I hope he gets extra sad now!" </p><p>The little girl dashed away from him and ran straight into Grace's arms while the rest of his auidence watched him- looking at him as though he had just murdered the girl's own mother in cold blood. Even Grace had a bewildered expression on her face- one that she didn't have when it was just the two of them in the room-</p><p>
  <em>'Way to have my back, Grace...' </em>
</p><p>Simon bowed his head, hiding his blush from everyone else's view. He always hated having everyone's attention on him. His eyes burned- and this time he didn't have any contacts to blame it on. They were tears alright, and he couldn't wipe them away fast enough.</p><p>"Simons crying!" Nate announced loudly. Too loudly for anyone's liking. </p><p>"I'm not-" He groaned, scrubbing his face with his hands. "Can everyone just go-"</p><p>Whittney shook her head. "No. We're going to work this out-"</p><p>"Whittney, its a stuffed animal!" Simon exclaimed. "Theres nothing to work out!"</p><p>"Don't say that!" Hazel sniffled. "Tuba was a person!" </p><p>
  <em>A person</em>
</p><p>No. A person wasn't something you could just buy a replacement for. A person was something that, once lost, you could never get back again no matter how much thread you used... Like a mother- like his mother. </p><p>"Hazel! Enough!" He snapped, "There are worse things that could happen!" </p><p>"There are not!" The girl wailed, face still buried in Grace's chest. "What could be worse than losing Tuba!?" </p><p>Red clouded his vision. His hands shook violently at his sides- his voice came before his thoughts could catch up. "Try losing your mom!" </p><p>The room went deathly quiet. Hazel's jaw hung open. It opened and closed like a gaping fish, desperately trying to draw breath between silent sobs. Tears still silently streamed down her pudgy face. From behind her, Whittney stood with her arms limp at her side. Her face was pale but her eyes held nothing but shock and disappointment. The woman then slumped- the air slowly being let out of her. </p><p>Whittney slipped out of the room first- tugging Grace out as she left. Grace bowed her head, but Simon still saw the anger etched on her features. Their whispers floated down the hall behind them. Both muttering words of comfort to the frazzled tot.</p><p>"I know, Hazel... I'm mad at him too." Grace's voice, usually so warm and kind, was cold this time.</p><p>And yet it still managed to burn him... A child's stuffed animal far more important to Grace than Simon's pain. His head spun with a mix of embarrassment and anger. </p><p>"Its just a toy..." He muttered, but whether or not he was trying to convince himself of this fact was beyond him.</p><p>A shaking hand reached into the the dirty laundry pile and drew out his hoodie and began to fold it. Anything to keep his hands busy- </p><p>
  <em>Crunch-</em>
</p><p>A piece of paper fluttered from the pocket- it was torn in a couple places, but he could still make out the shape it was cut into: a heart. </p><p>"What the-" </p><p>A messy crayon drawing was on the back- Hazel's work, he suspected. A crude drawing of what he assumed was himself, Hazel, Grace, and Tuba. All in matching red Daycare shirts. A rainbow hung over the four of them- and with a note in Grace's handwriting. </p><p>
  <strong>'Feel better soon! We love you!</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Love your family and friends' </strong>
</p><p>Hands were shaking again- not from anger, but sadness- pain. Tears fell before he realized it. They burned his eyes like salt, yet he didn't bother to wipe them. Instead, he rose to his feet and started a slow run. The layout of the house was long forgotten- he stumbled down the hall- all but ran through the house- how he managed to find his way outside was a mystery to him. </p><p>How he managed to get into his borrowed car was an even bigger mystery, but he needed a quiet place to cry out of everyone's earshot. He covered his nose and mouth with his hands- but his hiccups and sobs still seemed to echo throughout the car. They got louder, burning his ears and causing him to cry harder. Cry for himself, for Hazel and Tuba, for Grace- the Cossay's- his own mother- </p><p>Simon's entire body was shaking- he felt as cold as he had that morning as a child while standing in the rain with Grace. The morning his realized his mother wasn't coming back- He wondered if it was anything like what Hazel was feeling now...</p><p>
  <em>That was years ago... When are you going to let it go...?</em>
</p><p>Eventually, he had to stop to draw in a few deep breaths, spots dotting his vision from lack of air. Tears continued to slide down his face, and he began to feel sick from shaking so much. His hands were beginning to cramp. Desperate for something to hold- </p><p>An envelope caught his eye. Still disgarded and unopened in the backseat. Hazel's name stood out boldly in offical black font, with her photo paperclipped to the front. Simon's heart constricted painfully at that photo. Yet- out of desperation- he reached out for the envelope. </p><p>Out of curiosity, he finally read what was inside. </p><p>
  <strong> <em>Name: Hazel Jones</em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>Age: 3 years old</em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>Weight: 40lbs</em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <b> <em>Height: 4ft</em> </b>
</p><p>
  <b> <em>Allergies: None. </em> </b>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>Special Notes: Hazel is very attached to her stuffed monkey 'Tuba'. A present from her recently deceased mother. Please handle carefully. </em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>Hazel has multiple caretakers who will be pick her up at the end of each day. Request an ID and check pick up list for confirmation.</em> </strong>
</p><hr/><p>
  <em>Great going, Simon... You truly are a horrible person... </em>
</p><p>
  <em>This is why mom left...</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Getting Closer</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Eventually people stop caring about your problems.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The sun had begun to set by the time day he stumbled out of the car. Simon's head was pounding and his heart was heavy. The Cosay household looked dark and unwelcoming, with the porch lights having not been put on yet. In the window, Whittney was watching- waiting for him to come in. Her arms were cross under her chest once more, a wooden kitchen spoon clutched tightly in one hand.</p><p>"Oh no..." This wasn't a simple walk of shame anymore. It was a death march. Suddenly his legs felt locked in place. Not even his own body was dumb enough to proceed forward. </p><p>"Simon, I know your legs aren't broken." The window had been open, even better. "Come inside. Lets talk."</p><p>"I'd rather stay right here and talk." <em>Translation: I'd rather not talk at all. </em></p><p>"Suit yourself." Whittney sighed and leaned onto the window pane. "Talk to me then."</p><p>"Nothing to talk about. You know whats going on." He muttered. "With mom-"</p><p>"You know that's not what I'm talking about." She huffed, "I've got a sobbing 3 year old in my guest room saying you killed her stuffed animal."</p><p>"You were there for that too, Whittney..." Simon groaned, guilt falling heavy onto his chest. "It was an accident."</p><p>"Really? My son who folds everything before washin-" </p><p>A fist clenched in time with his heart. He wasn't Whittney's son, he was nobody's son now. His true mother had left him. This false-mother had her own kids to worry about. </p><p>"I'm not your son, Whittney!" It was louder than he expected, but it felt good to raise his voice. "You really want to know whats wrong? My mom is gone, I've left my job, Grace is more important to me than I am to her, and I hurt Hazel when all she did was try to help me-" </p><p>Whittney shook her head. "Thats a lot. Isn't it?"</p><p>"... Yes... I just feel like I'm losing everyone." </p><p>"But unlike your mom, we're still here for you. Always will be." Whittney murmured, a soft smirk tugging at her lips. "Even when you piss us off."</p><p>Simon almost felt the ghost of a smile, but it faded quickly. Whittney was right- she always was. "Why is that?"</p><p>The woman smiled faintly. In her eyes, Simon could see a mix of emotions. Sadness, joy, pride- "I'll tell you why later on when I can hug you."</p><p>A very personal conversation was in his future. "... Okay." </p><p>"Good... Well, come on in. I've still got dinner to finish up." Whittney said. "Why don't you go talk to your friends?" </p><p>Simon winced. In all his years as a daycare teacher, has grown wise to the concept of 'poking the sleeping bear too soon'. Meaning he knew better than to go see Hazel now. Kids will bounce back if you give them time, but move too soon and you'll only know pain and various Spiderman bandaids. </p><p>"Hazel probably wants to burn my corpse and dance on my ashes right now- not the best idea." Simon huffed.</p><p>"Then go see your friend." Whittney turned from the window. "She's in your room." </p><p>Despite every fiber of his being warning him not to- he took a step towards the house. </p><hr/><p>Grace was a badass, he knew that from the moment he met her. The way she sat on his bed, arms and legs folded with the last of the suns rays highlighting her features made her look even more intimidating. When the light shifted he swore he could see her eyes glowing red with anger. Her entire aura read 'I would kill you if it weren't illegal'. The multiple X-Man and Rob Zombie posters surrounding the wall behind her also gave an interesting effect.</p><p>It felt more like he was facing the final boss in a video game than going to talk with his friend. All they were missing was some battle music and fire. </p><p>"You've got a lot of nerve, Simon Laurent." Grace started, pressing her lips into a thin line.</p><p>"I know-" Simon sighed and bowed his head forward. "If you're going to hit me for my ignorance, just do it now."</p><p>That quip almost drew a chuckle from Grace. The glimpse of a funny smirk was almost reassuring- almost. "I don't feel like it right now. Hazel is planning your death already."</p><p>Aaaand Simon was back to being a dead-man-walking. "Is she really?" </p><p>"No. She just said she hated you and then cried herself to sleep."</p><p>The image that flashed behind his eyes broke his heart. "I didn't mean to hurt her-"</p><p>"You told an *orphan* to try losing her mom, Simon! After you *murdered* her stuffed animal!" </p><p>Simon rubbed the back of his neck. The skin there felt sore for whatever reason. Maybe the universe was burning him for being so stupid. "I... I hadn't read her packet yet..." </p><p>"Neither did I, but you don't take your anger out on children, Simon!" Grace exclaimed. "And so help me, if you say<em> "Try telling that to my mom"</em>, I will beat you within an inch of your life! I get that you have a sob story but-"</p><p><em>So thats it then? I'm mean to *one* kid and suddenly my decade old problem isn't valid anymore?</em> </p><p>The blonde frowned, even if he knew that much was true. In being cruel to Hazel, someone with a significantly worse situation to his, he automatically lost the right to feel bad about his own life. Which he shouldn't feel bad about in the first place- as a 23 year old man, there was no point in mourning anymore- </p><p>Grace matched his frown. "Simon, you're a grown man now. Eventually you have to let this whole thing with your mom go!" </p><p>Exactly how he felt. Good to see they were on the same page again.</p><p>Grace continued. "I understand it being a problem when we were 10 but-" </p><p>"It wasn't a problem back then because I was 'old enough', Grace." He muttered, crossing over to the nearest window and pulling it open. A gentle breeze sliced through his skin, but he didn't care. He just needed to breathe. "I know you think I'm looking for pity or an excuse for being a dick to a kid, but I'm not."</p><p>Grace blinked, her eyes wide with surprise. Simon turned away from her to look out the window at the quiet backyard. The sky was a merky orange now. It would be dark soon- it would also be time for Grace and Hazel to return to their own houses- whereever those may be. With how frequently Hazel was over, Simon wouldn't be surprised if she moved in and took residence in his old room-</p><p>
  <em>They will replace you... You have no right to be here at all. </em>
</p><p>"Simon?" Grace scooted off of the bed and joined him at the window. "Whats up?"</p><p>"I honestly don't know..." Simon's frown deepened. "I feel bad, obviously but-"</p><p>"You think Hazel should be "old enough" to handle this at 3?" The woman finished.</p><p>"No- " Simon sighed, chest tight with a mix of embarrassment and some second emotion he couldn't identify. "Hell no... Trust me, I hate myself for everything I said already-"</p><p>"Then why did you say it?"</p><p>The room felt incredibly hot all of a sudden. There was very little room to breathe. The four surrounding walls felt too close together. <em>Gotta get air- </em>The screen to the window was lifted and Simon slid out onto the ledge. From his time sneaking out as a teenager, he knew it was a hop skip and a jump to the roof from there. </p><p>Grace knew it too. He could hear her shoes squeak as she followed him up without a word. This wasn't the first time they had snuck up to the roof. They had been notorious for doing this whenever Simon was upset as a teenager.</p><p>The stars were out, and it was now dark enough that they couldn't read the other's face. Grace's hand found his in the dark. "You must be serious. You never come up here for just anything."</p><p>Simon tossed himself against the rough tiles, dragging Grace down with him. The scrape against his skin felt like a punishment of some sort. "I needed to breathe."</p><p>Grace looped their fingers together into tight knots. "You've got a lot going on... I get that-"</p><p>"No you don't." Simon played with her fingers. "But you're still here..."</p><p>"And I'll always be there." Grace sighed. "You know that, right?"</p><p>"And I will never understand why." Simon sighed. "You're stuck with an asshole whose mean to kids and has issues-"</p><p>Grace's free hand came up to cover his mouth. "Because that asshole was always there for me." </p><p>Simon licked the palm of her hand, a surefire way to get her to remove it. As expected, she wrinkled her nose and pulled it away quickly. Neither of them spoke during that time. They didn't have to. They spent too many nights here, having the same conversations about the same problems that never got solved. Never coming up with anything new-</p><p>"The timing couldn't be any worse." Grace muttered. "Your mom coming back that is..."</p><p>"She didn't even really come back... Leave it to her to cause trouble without having to be in the room." Simon sighed. "I just wish she would tell me why-"</p><p>"I don't think you'll ever get your answer, Simon." Her grip on his hand tightened.</p><p>"I know that... But until shes dead in the ground- there's still a chance." A ridiculous statement. Completely assheaded, but sometimes he felt that if he threw it out to the universe that he'd at least get <em>something </em>back. </p><p>There was a brief pause in the conversation. Grace was grinding her teeth in deep thought. </p><p>"Simon, do you ever wonder what Hazel sees when she looks at you?" She asked finally. "She might not understand how similar you two are, but do you think she-"</p><p>The man sat up, now sporting a very quizzical expression. "Similar? Grace- Hazel has a worse situation than me right now-"</p><p>"You both lost a mom and don't really have a place to call home. I'd say that's similar enough. Now answer the question."</p><p>"I'm... I'm not sure. I guess-" He shrugged, "I wouldn't know. I've only talked to her a few times-" </p><p>"She seems a little crazy about you already. Maybe you're her kindred spirit." Her tone was teasing. It was hard to tell if she was being serious or not. "Maybe Hazel feels something-"</p><p>"Grace, she's 3 not a psychic. 3 year olds bond with anything that isn't bolted to the floor." The blonde pouted. "And even if she did, I'm not sure the Daycare would be keen on-"</p><p>"Forget the damn Daycare for a minute. We're far away and you're on leave. It's not harming anyone- save for the whole stuffed animal homicide bit-" </p><p>A chuckle left the pair at random. The world around them seemed a little brighter for just a moment. However, the moment fleeted and gave way for the darkness to return. There was still reality to deal with. </p><p>"In seriousness- Hazel does consider you a friend, Simon." Grace breathed. "For a child living in her world, thats huge-"</p><p>"She has a lot of friends, Grace." Simon corrected, "I only had one. <em>That </em>was a big deal." </p><p>"Well, now you have two. Even better." Her grip loosened and she slipped her hand away from his. </p><p>"Great. One more person to get attached to." The man muttered. "And one more person I have to worry about leaving me one day."</p><p>Grace knocked his shoulder gently before looping her arm around him. "I'm not leaving you. And who knows, maybe the universe sent Hazel to be ours-"</p><p>"Ours?" A faint blush coloured his pale face. He was thankful the dark of the night covered it from Grace's view. </p><p>"Well, yeah- I'm not going to hog her." She teased, "We can both be her super cool mentors."</p><p>"Until she leaves the Daycare when shes 7-" Another knock to the shoulder. </p><p>"We could always adopt her." Now Grace was just trying to make him laugh. </p><p>"It doesn't work that way Grace." Simon huffed. "We're two 23 year old friends working minimum wage jobs. No adoption agency would look at us and think 'I trust a child with them'... Just like at work."</p><p>"Then we'll have to get married and put together a house so awesome that they *have* to give us Hazel." Grace laughed, giving Simon's ponytail a quick flip before sitting up. "Would you marry me, Simon Laurent?"</p><p>"Have you been drinking?" Simon smirked, a laugh threatening to come out. "You sound absolutely crazy right now."</p><p>"Nope, and you haven't been either. But theres nickle shots waiting for us at Jamie's if you're interested. " Grace smiled and pressed her forehead to his. "I just want you to be happy again. I miss hearing you laugh."</p><p>"... Thank you, Grace." Simon smiled faintly. </p><p>"You're welcome, Simon." Grace's own smile grew. "Are you in a better mood now?"</p><p>"I suppose."</p><p>"Are you ready to go apologize to Hazel."</p><p>"Absolutely not, but I'm going to anyway." Simon sighed heavily. "I don't want her turning out like me because someone let her down-" </p><p>"Good answer." </p><p>Simon sent a faint smile to Grace and began to descend down  the side of the roof. The window ledge wasn't too far down with a careful enough drop. Grace had since moved to sit at the edge of the roof. With the stars and moon behind her, she no longer looked like a final boss- but more like the friend he loved so dearly. Even if she didn't feel the same way about him-</p><p>
  <em>She's not yours... </em>
</p><p>
  <em>But I'm her's...</em>
</p><p>"Grace?" </p><p>"Yeah, Simon?" </p><p>"... I love you."</p><p>He had muttered it so softly, he wasn't even sure she had heard him. The quiet that followed was deafening. He didn't have it in him to look up at Grace. Feeling absolutely embarrassed, Simon didn't wait for an answer and attempted to scramble down the side of the house- </p><p>In all his years of being here, he never missed the window ledge- </p><p>He also never knew that the drop from the window was further down than it looked.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Oh, What Fun</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A hospital trip leads to a long overdue conversation.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>PLEASE REEEEEEEEAD ME!:</p><p>HI GUYS! So we have come to chapter 16 of 20. Wooooow! What does this mean? Well, like with Down and Out- nothing yet. I'm torn between extending this story further to cover Grace and Hazel's stories or doing a few on-shot sequels.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hospitals had never been Simon or Grace's forte. The bleached white walls and overwhelming smell of cleaner and sick people had always disturbed them greatly. They would only enter one when absolutely necessary. Like the time Grace broke her ankle when they were 14 or the time Simon needed his appendix out when they were 15. </p><p>And now- </p><p>"My arm hurts..." Simon groaned. The man was parked in a hard, plastic hospital chair- right arm wrapped in a light blue cast. Whittney sat beside him- wearing a very grumpy expression.</p><p>"Well no wonder it does! You broke your damn wrist!" The woman exclaimed. "How did you manage that?"</p><p>No use lying. His dignity was already as broken as his wrist. "Fell off the roof." </p><p>The glowing red in Mrs. Cosay's eyes told Simon that was probably the wrong response. "I meant *how* did you fall off the roof!?"</p><p><em>I confessed to Grace and tried to kill myself out of embarrassment? </em>"I was coming in off the roof and missed the ledge..."</p><p>"Then you're lucky thats all you broke!" Whittney may have sounded angry, but Simon could tell she was concerned. Why wouldn't she be?</p><p>Grace had just sprinted inside, screaming that her foster son had just fallen off the roof. Had Simon had enough sense to get up, he could have stopped his friend- but he had instead continued to lay sprawled out in the bushes, pretending to be unconscious. He kept up the charade long enough to be placed in the car and driven of. The ruse effectively trapped him with his foster mom, as it was then assumed he was concussed. Not his brightest moment, he'd have to admit, but what more could he do?</p><p>"Out of all of the things you could have done tonight, that is up there with one of the *dumbest*!" Whittney continued to rant. If Simon had to figure, she'd keep going until the doctor came back with the painkiller prescription- or until he died. One of the two. </p><p>
  <em>'Actually, its only the third dumbest thing...' </em>
</p><p>Third of course, to confessing his love to Grace after sobbing his eyes out over the stuffed animal he killed. *Then* he fell off the roof. He hadn't  waited for her response or anything. The blonde's stomach still felt braided into knots at the thought. 'Embarrassed' didn't even begin to describe what he was currently feeling. </p><p>'Dead' was more like it.</p><p>"-And I was just about to finish dinner- I did *not* need to be taking you to the hospital!" Aaaand Whittney was still chewing on him. Sighing, he looked out into the hallway. </p><p>Dark black signs with white letters hung overhead- all pointed to different sections of the hospital. If he squinted hard enough, he could read them. </p><p>
  <strong>Eyes, Nose, and Throat.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Waiting Room. </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Mother-Baby.</strong>
</p><p>Simon couldn't see the sign that said 'Dumbass Section', but he got the feeling that was where he currently was. Between Whittney's ranting and what Grace possibly thought of him at that moment- the man felt too stupid to be alive. </p><p>
  <em>This is why your mom doesn't love you...</em>
</p><p>A grimace streatched across his lips. The little voice in his mind sounded like his mother. That sickly sweet, pompous French accent stuck with him through happiness and pain. It had also caused 99% of his problems this day and he was ready to be rid of it. With a huff, he stood up and flung open the door with his good hand.</p><p>"Where do you think you're going?" Whittney called to him.</p><p>"Bathroom." <em>Anywhere but here. </em></p><p>The woman didn't protest. And even if she did, Simon didn't hear her.</p><p>As soon as he was out of the hall, the door was shut behind him and he slipped quickly down the hall. Various nurses and other staff members walked passed him but none acknowledged him beyond a head nod. They all seemed busy- some tending to patients, others offering condolences to families. The room up ahead had a family gathered around a sickly grandfather for a final visit. In short- everyone was dealing with their own shit right now. No one cared to know his.</p><p>It was almost humbling in a way. The knowledge that someone else probably had it worse was comforting. Almost- but the reality of it was that any issues of his was his and his alone to deal with. No one else's. Any struggles or heartache couldn't be shared with another even if someone had taken notice of him. Had someone *lost* their arm instead of breaking it, their situation might have been worse for them- but that didn't make Simon's wrist any less of a hindrance for his day-to-day life-</p><p>"Wish Grace was here... That trail of thought kind of sounded profound..." Simon muttered. </p><p>Wish in one hand- and you know the rest. Grace had stayed behind with the kids. Mr. Cosay was working midnights and someone had to feed everyone and make sure they got to bed on time. He'd see her later- hopefully *much* later. After she had forgotten and forgiven him for what happened. Maybe five years from now. That seemed like enough time to hide at the hospital for- </p><p>"She'd hunt me down... I know Grace." He smiled- and stopped to check where he had ended up.</p><p>To his left, just up ahead- a bathroom. And to the right- "Babies..."</p><p>In his wandering, Simon had ended up at the baby viewing window. The man was familiar with this spot in the hospital- having visited it during the few times he been to the hospital in the past and once when Nate was born.</p><p>The newborns were swaddled in their blue and pink blankets, each with a little cap atop their heads. Some were hidden under a blue light, others behind their hands, but there had been a few who wanted to show off their pudgy, innocent faces to the world. All of them were sleeping so peacefully and unknowingly. None of them had a care in the world because they didn't know what one was yet. They didn't know who their families would be or worry about if they would be loved or not-</p><p>"Lucky you." Simon muttered, looking over the sea of sleeping faces- wondering how many of this group would end up like him.</p><p>In a system of 400,000 and counting. How many of them would grow up in somebody else's home- or with no home? How many would even make it home from the hospital? And how many would have a few good years before being dumped like they meant nothing? Would they grow up and attend Infinity Care like Hazel? Would he never see any of them again as soon as he left their window? They would never know how just being alive and being in that window at that time could have an effect on a grown person-</p><p>"Simon. I thought you said you were using the bathroom." -Or how they were present for the murder of Simon Laurent.</p><p>"I-I was and then I got distracted." He muttered, eyes never leaving the infants. Mrs. Cosay joined his side and peered into the window for just a moment.</p><p>"Babies..." She muttered- Simon could practically hear the smile on her face. "These ones are fresh out the oven too..."</p><p>"Yeah..." They couldn't be more than a day old. "They're so little..."</p><p>"You were that small too once." Whittney sighed, "I wasn't there for it, but I'm sure you were a cute baby-"</p><p>"I wonder what happened..." Somehow, that was a statement.</p><p>"You grew up-" </p><p>"No- I mean... How does someone put a child into the world and just- decide they hate them?" The little ones became a blur of pink and blue. "Kids are small- they're defenseless and innocent- look at these ones! No one in that room knows what it is to be hated yet-"</p><p>"Makes you want to take them all home and love them, doesn't it?" Whittney sighed softly. "Wish in one hand though... You can only hope for them. Unfortunately- no one can control who they're born to. None of those babies asked to be born. It's not their fault-"</p><p>"Yeah..." A heavy sigh left him. "It sucks..."</p><p>"An understatement, honey..." Whittney muttered, pressing her hand to the glass. "Maybe some of them will be in a bad spot- maybe none of them... Maybe one of them will grow up to be a curmudgeon 23 year old who falls off of roofs and works at a daycare-"</p><p>"Whittney..." Simon opened eyes he hadn't realized he had closed. </p><p>"Yes, Simon?" Her voice was even. Calm. </p><p>"Why did yo-" The words died in his throat- which had painfully constricted. Whittney seemed to notice, and offered him a kind, understanding smile.</p><p>"I did say I would tell you when I could hug you- I guess now would be the best time." The woman said, glancing back at the window. "Sit a moment."</p><p>He chose to stand and nodded.</p><p>"Babies aren't the only ones who need love. It isn't something you outgrow- so 10 years ago, when I got a call about a rough and tumble 13 year old needing a place to stay- I said yes... I remember the day I met you."</p><p>"You gave me a cookie." The blonde muttered. </p><p>"And you left it on the table and ate it when you thought I didn't notice- you had this look on your face like you always wanted to cry too." She frowned. "I disliked your mother for leaving you- but I always loved you more than I hated her. I raised you with my boys and we were ready to make it offical-"</p><p>Pale eyes widened, "W-why didn't you tell me that...?"</p><p>"You left." Whittney reached up and wiped her eye quickly. "I accepted you without needing a paper by then. You were always one of my sons, even if I was never your mother... You would keep chasing her love instead and I was fine with that. I couldn't force you to accept my family."</p><p>"You never told me this-" </p><p>"Should I have had to?" Her smile returned- faintly, "Its a mother's job to love her children regardless of anything and to suffer silently for them... Your mother didn't want that kind of life and that's on her. I still got an amazing son out of it- even if he is a stubborn asshole part of the time." </p><p>A streak of wet fell down the blonde's face, but he didn't bother to wipe it away. "You got stuck with one of the worst..."</p><p>"And I wouldn't change any of it." One of her strong arms wrapped around Simon's shoulders and he leaned into the side hug. "A mother loves you, sweetheart. Just remember that, okay?" </p><p>Simon couldn't bring himself to repond or to look at her- or the babies- any longer. His gaze was cast down at his phone where his mother's number was still there. Unsaved by any title. Whittney's was there was well. Under a formal 'Mrs. C'... With his free hand- he dug the device out.</p><p>
  <strong>Block #<em>212-085-3120? </em></strong>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>*yes* </em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>Delete all messages from blocked number?</em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>*yes* </em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <em> <strong>.</strong> </em>
</p><p>
  <em> <strong>.</strong> </em>
</p><p>
  <em> <strong>.</strong> </em>
</p><p>
  <em> <strong>Edit Contact 'Mrs. C'. </strong> </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. There's Nothing Surer</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Simon and Hazel make amends.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It had been late when they got home, and even later when Simon woke the next day. </p><p>The house was quiet. If Simon has to guess, Grace and the kids had gone to the Daycare and the Cossay parents were at work. That meant he was alone to- well, just lay there and be in pain until he fell back asleep. Not that that was different from any other day off of work-</p><p>"I guess I could do laundry." He muttered.</p><p>"No!" A voice that wasn't his answered. </p><p>The voice belonged to Hazel, in fact. The chubby little three year old was wrapped up in the corner of his blanket, pearched at the foot of the bed like some kind of baby gargoyle. How he managed to miss her when he first woke up was beyond him. </p><p>"Hazel! Why aren't you in school?" The blonde asked, sitting up quickly. "And why are you in my room!?"</p><p>"It's still early! See?" The girl made a wide gesture to the window.</p><p>Sure enough, the sun had barely begun to rise. A muted, deep grey colour still muddied the sky- and the alarm clock on the bedside table read 5AM on the dot. A whole two hours before the Daycare was open to children...</p><p>"I see..." He mumbled, now feeling very tired all over again. "Anyway- you didn't go home last night?"</p><p>"Nope! I stayed the night again!" Hazel offered a wide smile and wrapped the blanket around her head. "I thought you died."</p><p>The man suppressed a laugh. "Unfortunately, no..."</p><p>"Good!" </p><p>"<em>'Good?'</em>Does this mean you're not mad at me anymore?"</p><p>"I'm still mad. I just didn't want you to die." Hazel shrugged her shoulder and scooted closer to Simon.</p><p>Her little nose was pointed downward, eyes inspecting the blue cast on his arm. Not in curiosity, but rather critically. At long last she wrinkled up her nose and stuck out her tongue. </p><p>"Shoulda got purple... Like Tuba."</p><p>"I'll keep that in mind for next time-" Simon sighed, "Where is Tuba anyway?"</p><p>"In a box... We had her wake yesterday... Open casket."</p><p>Simon's heart nearly shattered behind his ribs. "I'm sure Whittney would have helped you fix her-"</p><p>"No... Her injuries were bad." Hazel sighed heavily. </p><p>Simon frowned deeply. That didn't sound right at all. "Hazel... Is there another reason you want to bury Tuba?" </p><p>A nod- but he didn't push the question any further than that. </p><p>"We just gotta find her a 'vacant lot' to be buried in... Ms. Grace says so." Hazel said.</p><p>"A vacant lot?" The man ran a tired hand over his face. </p><p>On one hand, he wanted to laugh over the sheer ridiculousness of this conversation. On the other hand (the broken one) he wanted to respect Hazel's feelings. She wasn't an ordinary 3 year old, that was for sure- and she seemed to see him as a friend for whatever reason, or at the very least, she followed him around quite a bit. May it be a force of nature or her own doing, Hazel always seemed to bring good with her-</p><p>"I was going to bury her in your room, but you didn't die." ... Mostly. </p><p>Simon shook his head and scooted to the edge of the bed. He tossed his legs over the side and bent forward slightly. The universe sign of 'hop on. I'll give you a piggyback ride out of the room.' Hazel read the sign like a book and hurriedly scrambled up his back and pressed her little face to his cheek. </p><p>"Where are we going?" She asked, somehow pressing her face even closer to his.</p><p>"To bury Tuba. I know a good place." </p><hr/><p>Beneath Whittney's prized rosebushes, on the far side of the fence, there had once been a vacant lot. It had a marker already there, waiting. A small, wooden statue in the shape of a cat. It's carved eyes watched the pair like a guardian of sorts. The sun had risen just enough to illuminate the statue's nose and chin- turning it a warm orange colour. </p><p>"Simon? Whats that?" Hazel asked.</p><p>She was still on his back, only now she clutched the shoebox containing her beloved stuffed animal. No one in the house was up yet- and most likely wouldn't be for another hour. The funeral for Tuba would be a private affair.</p><p>"A grave marker." </p><p>Simon knelt and allowed Hazel to slip off of his back so she could have a closer look. The girl stayed back, not daring to disturb the marker now that she knew what it was. </p><p>"Whose buried there?" She asked, voice soft.</p><p>"... Samantha." A bitter smile passed over Simon's face.</p><p>"Who was she?"</p><p>"She was an old white stray and one of my first friends when I moved here..."</p><p>"Oh- I didn't know you had a kitty." Hazel pouted.</p><p>"Neither did Grace- or the Cossay's." He turned to face Hazel. "She was a good kitty, and she made me happy like Tuba made you happy... Its why I buried her quietly."</p><p>"Cause why?" She wrinkled her nose again. </p><p>"Because she was special to me for our own reasons and I don't have to explain them to anyone." Simon shrugged. "</p><p>"Things can be super special for no reason." Hazel summed up. "And friends can be anyone."</p><p>"I guess so." </p><p>The man rose up and glanced around for a disgarded shovel. He spotted one nearby, but made no move to grab it. Not yet.</p><p>"Simon? I want to bury Tuba next to you're kitty if that's okay." There it was. "Tuba deserves a good kitty friend."</p><p>Simon nodded quietly, and picked up the shovel with his good hand. It was small, but it felt as though it carried the weight of the world with it. Hazel was knelt before the grave already, with Tuba's box opened now. She gave the toy one last big hug goodbye and kissed her little plushy head. </p><p>"Simon?" The man winced at the sound of his own name- then winced harder when the broken toy was held up in his direction. "You gotta say goodbye too. Say a few words, okay?" </p><p>As much as he didn't want to- he still found himself taking Tuba gently in his hands, holding her body in his injured hand and cradling her head and stuffing with his good one. Like the shovel, Tuba carried the weight of the world with her. Or rather, the weight of one little girl and a mother's legacy. Putting that into worlds would be- difficult. </p><p>"Um- I don't know what else to say- I didn't know Tuba for very long- but she ate Hazel's lunch so Hazel took our leftovers and-" A pause. </p><p>It seemed Tuba had always been there. She had been the catalyst for Simon and Hazel's first two real conversations. She spoke for Hazel the first weekend he spent with the Cossay's in a long time, and her accident death lead to Grace and Simon's talk on the roof. Not to mention that, if it hadn't been for killing Tuba he never would have fallen off the roof, broke his wrist, went to the hospital, end up at the baby ward, and have the conversation with his foster mom that helped him finally let go of years of hurt-</p><p>"Shit-" </p><p>"Simon! Don't swear at a funeral!" Hazel exclaimed. "Say nice things!"</p><p>"Sorry- lost my trail of thought... Anyway- Tuba was a good stuffed animal. She was very important to Hazel and she somehow did big things just by being around..." </p><p>He knelt next to Hazel again and carefully put the stuffed animal back into her hands. "And I'm sorry I killed her with the dyer... But now she's going to be the best stuffed animal for Samantha the kitty, right Hazel?"</p><p>Hazel smiled widely. "She sure is!" With hands as steady as a surgeon's, the girl lowered Tuba back into the box and replaced the lid.</p><p>A small grave was dug- right next to Samantha's, and Hazel carefully lowered it down. The pair took turns throwing handfuls of dirt on top of the gave, and patted it down flat. Neither spoke for a very long time after that-</p><p>"Tuba signed your cast..." Not the creepiest way to start a conversation, but it was up there.</p><p>"What-?" Simon glanced down. Sure enough, where he had held Tuba's body there was a faint bleed of purple. "Okay- that's unsettling."</p><p>"No it isn't! Its a happy thing." Hazel argued, "Tuba forgave you, I think-"</p><p>Simon shook his head and couldn't help but laugh. Hazel joined him and together they laughed until they cried, and then they cried until they couldn't anymore. Just two lost souls both grieving the same losses at different points in their lives. Hazel in early childhood and Simon during adulthood. It was an odd situation, but they both took comfort in having the other there. </p><p>"Hazel...?" Simon muttered after a bit. "If you ever want to dig up Tuba-"</p><p>"I won't." Hazel sighed,  hiccuping between tears. "I know she's happy... A-and loves me still- even if we're not together and... I'm happy now... "</p><p>"A-are you still talking about Tuba?" No response. He didn't push it. </p><p>They were both tired and on limited time before school started. But even with that in mind, their spirits were higher than they had been. With a final glance at the grave, Simon lifted Hazel up in his good arm and they headed back inside. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. The Rich Get Rich and The Poor Get Poorer</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>We're nearing the end! But not to worry. This is only the beginning of the Mall Rats portion of this AU!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>By the time Hazel falls back to sleep, its only 5:30. Tuba's funeral hadn't taken long. There was still time left for the girl to sleep, but Simon? He currently felt more awake than ever. </p><p>The pain in his arm was unbearable and Hazel's little head was crushing his neck. His eyes felt dry and sore from crying and he had the knawing feeling that he was forgetting something or someone very very important-</p><p>"Glad to see you're not dead." Oh right- </p><p>Grace- his best friend and love of his life. She no longer had on her work clothes from the night before, but instead dawned a borrowed tshirt and a pair of his sleep-shorts. Both hung off her figure just enough that it was noticeab- </p><p>"G-Grace!" Simon sat up quickly- only sparing a second or two to gently reposition Hazel onto his bed. "You're still here-"</p><p>"Of course I am, dummy."</p><p>The woman crossed into his room and tossed herself onto the be beside him. With Hazel on the bed, the bed was beginning to feel a bit crowded- but the addition was welcome none the less. </p><p>The silence that came from Grace waiting for a response was not. </p><p>"I thought you would have gone home." The man said- hoping for some type of conversation. </p><p>"Simon, you fell off a roof after saying you loved me. I wasn't going to just leave." -He had been hoping for some type of conversation that *wasn't* that one. </p><p>Red exploded across the man's face and he turned his head quickly. "Y-yeah? That was pretty stupid, wasn't it?"</p><p>"Beyond stupid." Though he couldn't see Grace's face, he knew the woman was frowning. "You didn't do that on purpose, did you?"</p><p>"W-what? Oh God no-" Never before did Simon think I blush could physically hurt, and yet there they were. "I was distracted- you didn't say anything and-" </p><p>His face was taken between Grace's warm hands and directed back towards her. She now wore a sleepy but kind and almost loving expression and placed a gentle kiss to his forehead- followed by a second one and then another until she had all but covered his entire face in kisses. Simon felt absolutely dizzy from blushing by the time she released his face. </p><p>"You are the biggest dork." Grace laughed, hands settled in her lap.</p><p>A twin snicker tore itself from the pair. They snickered quietly until their chests hurt. It felt good to laugh so genuinely for once- even if they had to keep their voices down. The rest of the world was still at rest around them. Their hushed laughter was heard by no one but them.</p><p>But when they finally settled, their silence was like thunder. It was Simon who spoke first.</p><p>"So... What would you have said if I didn't fall?"  </p><p>Grace's beautiful smile vanished in an instance. Simon knew that look- she was thinking deeply about what she was about to say next. She didn't want to hurt him...</p><p>"I love you to-" There was more. He could tell by the way she bit her lip and refused to make eye contact. </p><p>Simon groaned and laid back. "A-as a friend, you mean...?" </p><p>"Hm... Take me on a date somewhere and we'll figure that out." She teased as she laid down beside him. "But in all seriousness- I don't know..."</p><p>"I don't either." Simon slid his eyes shut. </p><p>Grace rested her head on his shoulder. Her coarse hair brushed against his neck and he had to resist the urge to shiver. It had been a while since she was this close, as a friend or otherwise. </p><p>"I feel like we've been through everything and nothing at all... I love you... That much I do know, but I really only know so much about you-" Her voice was a symphony. Sad but not devoid of any love.</p><p>"Is this a rejection or are we seriously about to work all this out now?" One eye opened, "Because I'm not physically or emotionally ready for either."</p><p>"Then we don't have to talk about it." Grace shrugged, looping her hand into his good one. "But it's not a rejection... Not fully anyway. I still love you to the moon and back in some way or another. And I'm not going anywhere until we figure things out, okay?"</p><p>"Good to know." He muttered. "I'm fine with that... I've got enough to figure out as is."</p><p>Things were changing again- and this time he found he was fine with that. So long as he still had Grace at his side for the duration of it-</p><p>"I still have to figure out what kind of girlfriend I would be-" She was teasing again.</p><p>Simon sat up. "Grace- I'm not asking for any of that- I just wanted to know if we're more than co-workers-" </p><p>The relief that appeared on Grace's face was a welcome sight. "Oh definitely. Simon, you're my best friend no matter what." </p><p>"Then thats all that matters." Only half a lie. Regardless of what was said, he still felt the faint string of rejection- but he buried it deep in his chest enough to lay back down besides her.</p><p>Grace didn't owe him anymore love than she had already given. He had her as a friend and that was more than he could say about others in his life. He was- not fine, but a word that meant lesser than fine. Okay with it, maybe-</p><p>"I was serious about that date though." Grace's voice cut through his thoughts like a knife. </p><p>"But you just said-"</p><p>"I can platonically date my best friend, Simon." She muttered, nuzzling the side of his neck. "So long as neither of us makes it totally awkward."</p><p>"Should we go to Jamie's tonight and find out?" He draped his arm around her middle. "It is Thursday after all..."</p><p>"Fine by me." Grace muttered, tossing her own arm around his in a very loose hug. "But I think your other girlfriend might try to take you from me tonight."</p><p>"Other girlfriend?" </p><p>"Last night, Ms. Hazel said she wanted to be with you all day until your arm stopped hurting." Grace replied, "I figured thats what you two were doing outside this morning-"</p><p>Simon's blush returned with a vengeance. "Y-you saw all that?"</p><p>"Yeah... Just another thing I didn't know about you." The woman sighed. "I've got a lot to learn..."</p><p>"Likewise-" </p><p>"Don't give me that, Simon. You know just about everything about me and I don't even know your Wanda's order." A gentle knock to his arm punctuated that sentence. </p><p>A lopsided smile crossed Simon's features and he gently knocked her back.</p><p>"That's because I don't have one, dork." He teased, "I only eat there if you get something-"</p><p>"Are you kidding me-?" Grace turned until their foreheads touched. </p><p>"Not at all." Simon shrugged. "I thought you knew-"</p><p>"No I didn't! I got all upset for nothing!" He couldn't tell if she was teasing or not. Her tone said she wasn't, but the soft knocks against his arm said that she was. </p><p>Eventually, he caught her wrist in his good hand and guided it back to her side. They were both smiling at each other again, and settled back into their loose hug from earlier. Hazel had since moved so she was cuddled against Simon again. He didn't mind- even if the child did occasionally kick him in her sleep. He was back in their good graces (pun intended) and that was enough for him. </p><p>Grace seemed to sense that, and pushed a lock of hair out of his face carefully. "So what now?"</p><p>"We sleep for a bit and then finish this conversation when we're too drunk to see." Simon hummed, eyes shutting once more. </p><p>"Sounds like a plan." Grace hummed back, nuzzling his forehead for a moment. </p><p>A comfortable silence fell between the pair- filled only by their out of sync breathing as they began to drift off at their own pace. Just before they drifted off quickly, they muttered one last thing to one another- to send each other off with positive thoughts. </p><p>"I love you, Grace."</p><p>"I love you too, Simon."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. In The Meantime, In Between Time</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Second to last chapter! Whoop whoop! I just want to thank you guys for joining me on this journey though this AU and I hope you stick around for future installments, should there be any.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Time Skip!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Simon had gone to the Daycare to drop of the others. There had been a flurry of children racing to the babygates to come see him, and with Amelia's permission, they were all able to visit with him.</p><p>Various markers were produced  by Grace and the older kids took turns signing his cast while the younger kids got confused and signed his everything else instead. It had been a good morning all around and everyone ended up in their own respective corners of the world with a smile on their face- even Simon.</p><p>The afternoon had gone quickly, and the evening had gotten chillier as autumn finally began to rear its head in fully. Jackets were dawned and by the time Grace got off work and joined Simon, gloves were added to the mix (and at Whittney's insistence, hats too.) As it was a Thursday evening, so the couple rushed into Grace's warm car and sat with their shoulders pressed together until they warmed up. Their home away from home awaited them. </p><p>The autumn chill was forgotten quickly, as it always was whenever Simon and Grace went out together. Nights like these just always seemed better than most. The rest of the car ride was a silent hop, skip, and a jump over to Jamie's and the pair were soon parked in *their* seats. A set of goofy smiles were already plastered on their faces as the bartender brought out their usual snacks and nickle shots. The food and alcohol warmed them just as much as each other's company did. </p><p>They stayed quiet, however. Going about their routine of 7 years as they always had. Neither of them needed to say anything. They both knew what the other was thinking without having to say anything. The silence was nice- but the occasional click of the old karaoke machine was even better. It was familiar to them both and a sign that the old thing still worked, just like them. </p><p>There had been a few times throughout the years that they had worried about it-  their karaoke machine, that was. Both had always been concerned that one day it would crap out and they'd have to wait for a new one to come in to replace it. But also just like them, the machine had continued to push through and provide them with hours of entertainment.</p><p>It was Grace who spoke for the first time that evening. She set down her food, took a shot for courage, and stood up fast. She wasted no time in approaching their machine. Simon glanced up at her in surprise. In all their 7 years, it had always been Simon who would start of karaoke. Always with an obscure song no one but them seemed to know. It was how they stayed unique. </p><p>Grace always went second, after a few drinks and a few rounds of watching Simon make an absolute fool of himself for her sake. Not that Simon ever minded it. He had always been willing to do just about anything to see a smile on Grace's face. Hell, he was willing to break his other wrist if it would please her-</p><p>Or at least he was more than willing to sing a ridiculous song before her. </p><p>Today, however, Grace seemed set on taking the first song of the night. An air of confidence hung around her as she did. She must have felt Simon's curious glance on her back because her hand stopped inches from the song book. </p><p>"It's my turn to serenade you, Simon." She tossed over her shoulder with a smile. </p><p>"Is that so?" The blonde asked, "Why the change?"</p><p>"Because this is a date and because I said so." Grace snapped playfully, "Now just sit there and look pretty. Like I usually do."</p><p>"I'm fine with that." Simon leaned on his good arm. "What song did you have in mind?" </p><p>By then, Grace was already flipping through the old phone book of songs, a look of intense concentration scrawled on her face as her index finger rapidly traced the pages for a song. She was looking for a very specific one. </p><p>"You'll see." There was a wink at the end there.</p><p>If Simon had to guess which one it was- He was sure he would be correct. He would guess she was looking for <em>his</em> usual song. She may not have known much about him, but she knew which was his favorite. An ironic little tune about life sucking so hard but always having fun with a loved one by your side. It seemed more fitting now more than ever, espeically after what had transpired. </p><p>"Page 337." Simon called up, casually returning to his food to hide the light pink tint on his face.</p><p>"I would have found it eventually!" Grace pouted, he could hear it. But at least she proved he was right.</p><p>"You would have been here all night and *still* have never found it." Simon teased. </p><p>"Hey, your job is to just listen to my amazing singing." A snicker lined that sentence, "Then you get to come up here and make a fool of yourself like always."</p><p>"Yes, ma'am. That sounds about right." Simon smirked, turning once more back around in his chair. "Wait- no it doesn't. Usually its the other way around."</p><p>"You making a fool of yourself and then listening to my amazing singing?" A mischievous smirk crossed both of their features.</p><p>"No. Usually its my amazing singing everyone listens to before you make a fool of yourself." He teased back.</p><p>The man could feel Grace's smile on his skin, and he pressed his face closer to his food to hide his rapidly darkening blush. The lights dimmed down and the lights from the machine flickered off of the walls as the music began to play.</p><p>A familiar tune flooded the area around them with a certain old warmth. One that had always been there whenever they needed it. Not that they really needed it tonight when they had each other- but it was welcome none the less.</p><p>As the words flashed overhead, Grace picked up the microphone and the song began.</p><p>
  <em>"Every morning, Every evening- Ain't we got fun...?"</em>
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<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Ain't We Have Fun (ANNOUNCEMENTS!)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Whats this? </p><p>The completed chapter 1 for the sequel? Finally?</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Welcome back folks!</p><p>Now, to explain briefly, I'm posting chapter 1 here, but the sequel is going to be a seperate story, I'm just not sure when its going up. I'm doing a collab for this story with Forze on Instagram, so look out for that too!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Chapter 1: Book 2.</strong>
</p><p>Infinity Care Daycare had always been a home away from home for Simon and Grace. As long as they had been employed there, their room had *always* been the Apex Room. A.K.A Room #1. They had a good group and mostly 3 years old, who listened to their teachers for the most part...</p><p>Sure, they were also the loudest room and the biggest headache to the director, Ms Amelia- but other than that they considered themselves a good group. They had a schedule they stuck by before their afternoon of free play and chaos. This consisted of a 7:00-7:30 breakfast, 7:30-8:30 circle time, bathroom, 8:45-9:45 gym time, 10:00 recess, 11:00 art class, and then a 12:00 lunch. </p><p>Naptime always came after lunch. </p><p>The full tummies and half hour of wrestling with their teachers onto their cots always seemed to tire the kids out. Coupled with the relaxing (and very sad for some reason) music that played on the radio, it didn't take much to convince the kids of the Apex room that it was time for a nap. Or maybe it was just because Ms. Grace was their unoffical leader and they knew they could trust her.</p><p>They certainly didn't seem to trust Mr. Simon any longer. </p><p>The blonde had taken a brief leave of absense sometime in the fall. Ever since he returned to work, only one rugrat would pay attention to him long enough for him to give an order. Unsurprisingly, that had been their classrooms newest addition, Hazel. The child wasn't like the other Apex children. She spoke in a regal tone that was beyond her age, and very rarely did she care for activities such as art class and napping. </p><p>She was brave, and liked to explore places her fellow classmates wouldn't dare to venture. She wasn't afraid of Ms. Amelia whenever the director would poke her head into the room and above all: She wasn't afraid of Mr. Simon. Even Ms. Grace had taken notice of it, and gave her co-worker the unoffical title of 'Offical Hazel Wrangler'. A title that essentially meant 'Go hang out with Hazel so it looks like we both know what we're doing.'</p><p>That was fine by all of them. Hazel's cot was in the corner, next to Lucy's. Lucy was never any trouble at nap time, and like Hazel, she welcomed Mr. Simon's company as she drifted off to sleep. On a few rare occasions, the brunette were force herself awake long enough to share a pleasant conversation with the duo. </p><p>Mostly their stories were at Mr. Simon's expense, but he hardly minded. So long as the kids got to sleep and he got to go on break on time. It was on those days that where they would talk that Hazel would bite the bullet and nap for once. </p><p>"And then Mr. Simon fell off of the roof..." Hazel concluded their tale, her big brown eyes drooping as she spoke. </p><p>"And thats how I broke my wrist." Simon concluded, tucking the girl's blanket around her carefully.</p><p>Lucy had fallen asleep long before the end of that story. She always did, and yet she always asked to hear it again. Hazel was close behind her friend. Barely able to finish the next part of the story before she too drifted off. Simon sat beside the two silently, waiting to see if either of them would stirr awake suddenly. </p><p>They never did.</p><p>"Hey, mine are out over here." Simon whispered. He heard Grace hum in approval. </p><p>"Make sure. Hazel pretends sometimes." His co-worker whispered back, hidden behind a nearby bookshelf where Todd and Maurice's cots often were.</p><p>The blonde nodded and glanced back at the girl. The girl was defiantly asleep this time. Simon never thought of it much, but Hazel always looked troubled in her sleep. In the few times she did nap at the Daycare, it was always with a screwed, pinched up expression on her face. The girl never moved around much, but the small beads of sweat that would gather on her forehead gave the impression that she was moving very fast in wherever she was in her dreams. </p><p>"Whatcha thinking?" Grace's voice startled him. </p><p>The woman was at his side- well, she had moved on to the cot beside Hazel's (Lucy's), and was tucking the other girl in a little tighter. Unlike Hazel, the brunette had a peaceful expression on her face. Her eyepatch (used to correct her cross-eyes as they had recently found out) was balled up in her fist and the elastic band had somehow ended up in her mouth. Occasionally, a little smile would flit across her face before vanishing. </p><p>"You already know what I'm thinking." Simon muttered, a touch of secondhand envy weighing in his chest. "Something just doesn't feel right with Hazel..."</p><p>They had only known Hazel for a short time, and there was only so much they could gather from her paperwork. She had lost her mother at a young age, and they knew little about her father. They had met a few of her caretakers already, including the Cosay family, whose son Nate was in Room #2. All of them seemed like such nice people...</p><p>"There isn't much we can do about it here.. ." Grace sighed. "We can't write a report on a hunch, you know?"</p><p>She slipped a hand around one of Hazel's gently, and Simon followed in suit with his own. Almost instantly, their Hazel's face relaxed. Her troubled expression vanished and she opened both of her palms to try to hold their hands. They had a limited time to comfort her like this before Amelia would come in to call them out- but if it helped Hazel, they were more than willing to take a lash for it.</p><p>But other children needed tending to as well. They would all have their own nightmares eventually. It wouldn't be fair to give Hazel special attention and they knew it.</p><p>"We have to do something eventually, you know?" </p><p>There was silence. Simon shifted his position so that he was sitting on his knees. His brushed against Grace's momentarily, accidentally getting the woman's attention in the process. Her head had snapped up, and Simon could see the concerned expression she wore on her face. Silver tears pricked the corners of her dark eyes, but she blinked them away quickly.</p><p>"I know-"</p><p>...</p>
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